How Emily Davis Got Her Groove Back
by unoriginal-elizabeth
Summary: “So my choices are: a life of fulfilling loneliness, sea-sickness and scurvy…or Edwin.”
1. Chapter 1

NOTES: Some spoilers for the end of season 4. Also willful disregarding of one very important spoiler, because it didn't fit with my plot :) So, you know the recent small explosion of awesome Emily stories? The sound you hear would be me, jumping on the bandwagon :) Though, in my defence, Emily _is_ awesome. Anyway, I'm sure everyone has read said awesome stories, but in case you haven't, they would be -

'What You Call Winter' - WhenLighteningStrikes

'one revolution around the sun' - ninja butterfliie

'A Garden For Wallflowers' - snappleducated

(I hope these people don't mind my mentioning them!).

First time writing Emily, so comments and criticism much appreciated :)

DISCLAIMER: Done for fun, not profit.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), top ten romantic moments ever (#1)_

"But I'll come back for you, Emily – I will. Just as soon as I graduate. And get a car. And a job. Of course, I'll need a driver's license before the car...And I'll need a job first to get the car..."

She knows it's goodbye from the second he says 'Newfoundland'. All his talk of coming back for her doesn't sway that belief for a moment. It's a romantic idea, sure – but just like she knows marriages between sixteen year olds don't last, she doesn't believe for one second that Sheldon will be back. It's still the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to her. Just because there's no hope of it ever happening doesn't make it any less romantic.

So, she kisses him, and enjoys the rest of her Prom night as best she can, and says goodbye when Sheldon leaves. And then...she gets on with the rest of her life. She dates other guys (she dates _Derek _– and who would ever have seen that one coming?), she tries to talk Casey down from whatever crazy ledges she finds herself on, she starts thinking about college. And she tucks Sheldon Shlepper away as a sweet, crazy memory.

That's how real life works.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: crushes, hot guys (college)_

At college, Emily is just Emily, instead of 'Casey McDonald's best friend.' And that's okay. It's actually kind of relaxing.

The girls she's sharing with are nice. They go out together to the movies, and to bars, and Sandra (who is like Casey-lite) pressures Emily to join the drama society with her. They're putting on a play called _Idiot Strings. _Emily goes anyway. This is where she sees Him.

He's tall, gorgeous and popular – the star of the production. Jarrod Jackson. Derek mark two. Sandra and Emily spend ice-cream filled evenings drooling over him, and arguing over who has the better job – Sandra's in costume design, and she gets to take his measurements, and Emily is prompter, and gets to spend quality time gazing at his profile as he declaims poetic speeches.

Of course, Emily's job isn't totally perfect – there are a lot of late evenings and sometimes her staring time is interrupted when the director says –

"Prompt-girl, we're waiting," and Emily becomes aware that everyone on stage is staring at her.

"Oh. Sorry," she inevitably says, and fumbles with her playscript. "Um – could I have the last line again?"

But these embarrassments fade away when Emily looks at Him.

"He's like...ice-cream for the eyes," Sandra says, and Emily has to agree. Mint-chocolate-chip, she thinks.

And then, one evening – a totally ordinary, not at all your-life-is-going-to-change-forever kind of evening, rehearsal ends, and Emily leaves. As she's walking, she hears a "Hey – prompt-girl!"

She turns, and it's Him. He jogs up after her and says, "Mind if I walk with you?"

His words are almost drowned out by the fact that he's speaking to her. It's so completely unexpected that all Emily can do for a while is blink at him, before saying, "Of course! Yeah! Of course!"

They walk slowly. Emily's mind is completely blank.

"So..." he says. "Prompt-girl...do you have another name?"

Emily is ninety per cent sure that she does, so she says, "Yes!"

"Um – would you mind telling it to me?"

"Oh! Sure!" she says. "Just...as soon as I remember it."

He stops and smiles at her – a smile that lights up his eyes, and suddenly, they're both laughing.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: disastrous first dates with hot guys (Derek Venturi, Jarrod Jackson)_

He asks her out for coffee, and Emily thinks she says yes – though it's hard to be sure with the pounding in her ears.

"Oh my God!" Sandra shrieks when Emily tells her, and they spend hours picking out the perfect outfit for her date.

It's a total disaster. She faithfully follows the script from her very first date with Derek (the one where he was using her to get back at Casey…though, honestly, that doesn't narrow it down as much as it should) – the awkward silence, the snorting, the uncontrollable babbling. The only difference is – he asks her out again.

And again.

And again.

On opening night, when the play is over, the cast come onstage to take their bows. They bow once, twice, three times. Before the curtain closes, Jarrod looks stage right, into the wings, right at her, and smiles.

And Emily starts to think that maybe this is going to last.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: current boyfriend (Jarrod Jackson), top ten romantic moments (#2)_

Two months later, and Emily trudges home after a late evening. She turns the key in the lock, walks into the living room, and stops, amazed.

There are candles on the table, and boxes of Chinese food. Jarrod is standing with a pink rose in his hand. "Surprise!" he says.

"It's not my birthday," is the first thing she blurts out.

"I know," he says, grinning.

Emily thinks frantically, but nothing comes to mind. "Is it our...three-month-a-versary?" she hazards – though she's never known anyone but Casey who celebrates those kinds of things.

"Nope," he shakes his head.

Emily stares at him, and at the kitchen, bathed in candle-glow. "Then what..."

"Just because," he says. "Now come on – the food's getting cold."

For a 'just because' he's put an awful lot of thought into it. They have the place to themselves – Sandra and June are at the cinema – and he's even thought of dessert.

"Mint-chocolate-chip," he says, proffering the ice-cream.

All Emily can do is look at him. "This – this is...amazing," she says finally, inadequately.

"So – is it the most romantic thing any guy has ever done for you?" he teases, with a hint of pride.

Emily wants this moment to be perfect, but she can't help herself. "Almost," she says softly, remembering her Prom, and a marriage proposal.

He doesn't get offended, just smiles a beautiful wide smile at her and says, "Emily Davis, you've been holding out on me," and he looks at her like he wants to discover every single one of her secrets.

That's the exact moment when she falls in love with him.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ex-boyfriends' ongoing issues (Casey McDonald)_

It's not that it's always easy. But to her surprise, most of the time it is. Emily spends Spring Break with his family. That's easy too, and she doesn't even worry when summer vacation begins, and her parents want to meet Jarrod. She waits out the first week (which is 'just family'), and kills time until Jarrod can travel down.

It's weird, how things have changed. Casey's too involved with some project to make it down this summer, and Emily has a lot of free time on her hands.

It's also weird how things _haven't_ changed. She drops into Smelly Nelly's, and is surprised to see Derek there, in the familiar brown t-shirt.

Eventually, he comes over to take her order – the place is pretty busy.

"How are things going?" she asks, curious. Casey's phone conversations are conspicuously Derek-free lately.

"Okay," he says, and produces a small white card.

"'Say it with a Derek Production'," she reads.

It turns out Derek's started a business – taping 'special moments' and messages – video-d Valentines, birthday wishes...and apparently doing quite well. He's saving up for new equipment, which is where Smelly Nelly's comes in.

"Wow," Emily says. Derek sounds...motivated.

"They're seriously short staffed at the moment," he says, "and it's money. And an easy way to meet girls."

Emily smiles. "Good to know that some things don't change," she says.

He brings her a chocolate milkshake, and while he sets it down on the table, he asks, carefully casual, "So, heard anything from everyone's least favourite super-freak lately?"

He focuses intently on wiping some drops of milkshake off the table. Emily frowns and says, "Casey? Not recently, sorry."

"That's a reason to be thankful, not sorry," he says, but he doesn't meet her eyes before walking off to another customer. Emily watches his back as he strides away, and she thinks that Derek has his own problems.

Still.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), and awkward meetings_

And then Jarrod comes down and it's exactly like Emily imagined it would be. Her parents love him, and he instantly becomes her brother's favourite person ever. It's the total polar opposite of Sheldon's first visit to her house, where he succeeded in breaking three plates from their best set, and accidentally squashed Dimi.

Even though it's going well, Jarrod is quieter than normal – nervous, he tells her, and every chance he gets, he holds her hand, or throws an arm around her shoulders, like he's looking for reassurance. Emily finds it completely adorable.

That first evening, they go for a walk, and Emily brings him to Smelly Nelly's, still busy. While Jarrod bags a table, she makes her way to the counter, only to stop as a familiar figure walks past.

"Sheldon?!"

There's a crash as he drops the tray of hot chocolates he's holding, and turns to face her.

"Emily?"

They stare at one another.

"What – are you doing here?" Emily asks.

"Oh – um," he begins.

"Everything okay, Em?" Jarrod calls from the table.

"...yeah," she calls back, then looks at Sheldon again. She blinks at the brown t-shirt he's wearing.

"Are you...working here?" she asks, completely confused. This isn't Newfoundland.

"Only temporarily," he says. Just then, Derek hustles by with a brush, which he holds out to Sheldon. Sheldon looks at the brush for a moment, before seeming to realise that he's standing ankle deep in hot-chocolate and broken mugs.

"Why don't I wait at our table?" Emily suggests.

* * *

Sheldon comes by a few minutes later to take their orders. She introduces him to Jarrod, and then, unable to contain herself any longer, she asks again –

"So, what brings you back here, Sheldon? It's a pretty long way from Newfoundland."

He stares at her, and for an awful, stomach-dropping moment, she's sure he's going to say, "You," and remind her of his completely crazy plan to return for her. She actually feels sick, because she doesn't know how to handle something like that without breaking Sheldon's heart.

But he blinks and says, "It's part of my campaign."

"Your campaign?" Jarrod asks.

"For student council," he confirms. "I'm running next year, and Derek's going to help me shoot my campaign video."

The words refuse to make any sense in Emily's brain.

"Aren't you starting a little early?" Jarrod asks. "I mean, elections won't be held until" –

"Preparation is the key to success," Sheldon interrupts him, almost knocking a woman off her feet as he swings his arm in a grand gesture.

"You came all the way from _Newfoundland_ for Derek to shoot a campaign video for you?" Emily asks.

"It's all part of my strategy," he says enthusiastically. "Coming back to my hometown...it shows the student body who Sheldon Shlepper really is. And _that_," he holds up his index fingers, "gives Sheldon Shlepper an advantage in the elections."

It sounds utterly insane...and completely Sheldon.

"Well – good luck," Emily manages.

There's an awkward pause until Derek passes, and stage-whispers, "This is the part where you get their orders, Shlepper."

"Oh, right," Sheldon says, and hurries off to the kitchens.

"Interesting guy," Jarrod says, and raises his eyebrows.

Before Emily can jump in with, "He's really sweet," two things happen. Jarrod's cell phone starts ringing, and there's a spectacular crash from the kitchens. Emily, along with most of the other customers, turns around in her seat, while Jarrod slips out the door for some privacy.

Sheldon's back moments later with the order (wrong – but Emily doesn't say anything).

"So ...how are you?" he asks.

"Good," she says, and smiles encouragingly.

"Good. Good," he repeats, and nods. Suddenly he sits down in Jarrod's place, and leans across the table to her. "Emily," he begins in a very serious voice. Then stops.

"Yes?" she says.

"I don't – suppose that you..." he stares at her.

"That I...what?" She leans closer, caught by his intensity.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he spits out, "Would you consider being a part of my campaign video?"

She blinks. Always expect the unexpected, she reminds herself, and shakes her head a little. "Um...sure, I guess."

"Great. Great!" he says. "I mean – Sheldon Shlepper...so great even his ex-girlfriend would vote for him!" He smiles at her, then up at Jarrod, who has returned and is standing in front of the table.

There's a long moment where Jarrod just looks at him, waiting for him to realise that –

"Right! This is your seat. Sorry." He gets up, and Jarrod slides into the seat. He reaches out immediately and takes hold of Emily's hand – the new, needy Jarrod, though she doesn't see what he has to be nervous of here.

"So, Emily...I guess I'll see you around," Sheldon says, almost uncertainly.

"Sure," she smiles.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)_

The next few days, they do see a lot of Sheldon. The front of the Venturis' house seems to be his base of operations, and every time they walk by Derek is filming something new and weird. Jarrod is totally captivated by the whole thing, and they spend a lot of time on the sidewalk, watching girls in cheerleading outfits, mimes and a truly bewildering assortment of animals slowly wreak havoc on the Venturi front lawn. Marti and Dimi set up a lemonade stand, and rely on their combined cuteness factor to sell an astonishing quantity of watered down lemonade.

"How much is he paying you for this?" Emily asks Derek one day.

Derek stares at the dogs wearing 'Vote Sheldon' around their necks, and refusing to remain still no matter how Sheldon tries to bribe them.

"Not enough," he says.

A few days later, they're watching an astonishing number of kids with pan-pipes set up camp around Sheldon. The lemonade stand has broken up due to a dispute over division of labour versus division of profits.

"Say what you want – that guy is not boring," Jarrod says, slinging an arm around Emily's neck.

"No," she agrees, with a small smile. "He never was."

When Sheldon passes by with a clipboard, Jarrod calls out, "Hey, dude –what's with all the instruments?"

Sheldon stops, and says, "They're a new band – the P-Pipes...I've been working on getting them some exposure. It's all part of the campaign...Sheldon Shlepper – supporter of the Arts."

Jarrod's phone rings, and he moves away to answer it. She watches him go with a frown before turning back to Sheldon and asking, "The P-Pipes?"

"Yeah – and they're pretty rockin', if I do say so myself." He stops. "Hey – Emily, you could record your piece now, if you want. One of the mimes has laryngitis, so he's out of the frame for today."

"I couldn't," she says quickly. "I mean, I haven't learned my lines" –

"There aren't any lines," Sheldon interrupts. He catches hold of her arm and pulls her towards Derek. "This is going to be a totally unrehearsed look at the kind of people who support Sheldon Shlepper."

"Except for the fire-throwers," Derek interrupts.

"Well, yeah, but that's a safety issue. You can't have spontaneous fire-throwing. That's just irresponsible," Sheldon pauses. "And the pan-pipe tribute. You have to rehearse that. And the mimes" –

"So maybe it would be better if I had a script to follow," Emily says, trying to turn back.

"No! No! Just...share your thoughts on – me."

Suddenly, Emily is blinking in front of the camera.

"Okay –go!"

"Um...I..." she looks at Sheldon for help.

"Just tell everyone – how you feel about me," he advises.

"But keep it clean," Derek says. "I've had to edit out almost all of mime ten's speech."

Emily stares into the camera. "Um. Well. Sheldon Shlepper. What...can I say?" The question isn't rhetorical, but Sheldon just makes a 'go on' gesture when Emily looks helplessly off to the side.

"Sheldon's...a great guy," she says finally, then jumps when someone's arm snakes around her waist.

"He sure is," Jarrod says, looking straight at the camera. "I'd vote for him – and I've just met him. Vote Shlepper, everybody!"

"How was that?" he asks Derek, then turns to Sheldon.

"Yeah. That was – okay," he says, a bit stiffly. "I mean, I can't guarantee anything. There are lighting and sound considerations. We may not be able to use it. Right, Derek?"

"Yeah. If you say so," Derek says, fiddling with the camera.

"Okay," Jarrod says easily. "Well, if you need us for any re-shoots, we're there. But right now, we've got to go, or we'll be late for the movies. Right, Em?"

"Right," she agrees, but turns back to say, "Hey – good luck with the P-Pipes!"

The look on Derek's face is priceless.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Jarrod Jackson), worst breakups ever (#1)_

A few evenings later and Emily and Jarrod are curled up on her couch, making the most of the weekly McDonald-Venturi & Davis book club/playdate, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching TV, when his cell phone rings. Emily frowns, because that's been happening a lot.

Jarrod pulls the phone out of his pocket, looks at the screen for a second, then pushes a button. The ringing stops.

"Why didn't you answer it?" Emily asks. There's a weird feeling in her stomach.

He shrugs. "I didn't recognise the number." He doesn't meet her eyes.

"Jarrod – what's wrong?" she asks. "You've been acting really weird lately, and you're always on your phone" –

"It's nothing," he interrupts. "Can we just watch this?" He runs a hand through his hair. He still won't look at her.

The sick feeling in Emily's stomach grows. "No," she says. "Something's wrong. Tell me."

Finally, he does look at her, this awful scared expression on his face, and it all drops into place.

"It's another girl," she says suddenly. Her body knows it's true, but she just sits there, waiting for him to deny it.

"Em, I am so sorry," he says, and he catches her hand.

All she can think of to say is, "Oh." It takes her a second to realize that she shouldn't let him hold her hand. She pushes herself to her feet, away from him. There's pounding in her ears...it's like the first time he asked her out – she can see his lips moving, but she can't understand a single word he says.

"Who…um – who is she?" she chokes out.

"Emily…"

She just looks at him.

"Just someone I used to…an ex. But Em – Em, listen to me…she doesn't matter."

She stares at him in incomprehension.

"Emily," he says, "Em – just, please… listen to me. She doesn't matter to me, she's no-one – it was a mistake. I don't – you're the one I want."

That doesn't make any sense. If she's the one he wants, why would he…

"No," she says. "Go away."

She turns and runs, wrenching the door open, slamming it behind her, and she's running down the sidewalk, taking big gulps of air that hurt her throat and chest.

"Emily! Emily!" suddenly, he's in front of her, his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place. "Please – please listen to me, Em, just listen, okay?"

She pushes at his chest, but he's still holding on to her. "I did a stupid thing, okay? I made a terrible mistake – I know. And I have been so scared, Em – I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, please" –

The words don't mean anything, they just make the pain in her chest worse. "Go away," she says again. "I don't want you here."

Suddenly, there's another voice, and someone is pushing himself between the two of them. Derek. He glances between the two of them and says, "Hey."

He sounds so normal it makes Emily blink. Neither of them say anything.

Derek sighs and says, "Okay. Let's try again. I'm going to Smelly Nelly's." Then, with a completely fake 'I've just had an idea' voice, "Hey, Em, you wanna come?"

Emily really doesn't want to know what this scene looks like for Derek to make the offer. She can't speak. She just nods at him.

"Emily...please..." Jarrod says, unsteadily. He sounds like he's just holding himself together, he sounds like he's going to cry. She's shocked to realise that she isn't.

"I can't," she says, swallowing down the ache in her throat. It's crazy, but it's hurting her even more to see him so upset.

"Hey, Jarrod – we'll see you later, huh?" Derek says in that same slow speaking-English-to-foreigners-voice. Not threatening, more...like a director, clueing in his actors. Derek puts a hand on her shoulder, and steers her away. They walk quietly, and Emily is grateful that Derek doesn't try to make her talk about it. Derek acting like nothing special has happened allows her to pretend that nothing has. The pain in her chest lessens a bit. She thinks, vaguely, that she must tell Casey about Derek, next time she phones. Of course, Casey will find some way to make Derek's behaviour seem insensitive. But right now, it's exactly what Emily wants.

Soon, they're in front of Smelly Nelly's, and Derek directs her inside, and deposits her at a table by the wall.

"Sit," he instructs, and she does. "Look – it's my shift, so..." he trails off. "Just..." He blows out a breath in frustration. He shakes his head and wheels off. Moments later he returns and puts a mug of coffee in front of her. Her chin wobbles a bit, and she stares at the table until she has it under control.

Emily sits there and watches her coffee get cold and concentrates on not crying.

* * *

She doesn't know how long she's been sitting there, but all of a sudden, Sheldon is looking down at her.

"-okay?" he says.

"Hi Sheldon," she says quietly. "Are you working this evening too?" Everything seems far away, like she's watching it happen from Mars.

"Oh –no. No. Just...hanging out," he says. He hesitates. "Are you okay?"

She catches his eye for a moment, and has to look away quickly. She shakes her head.

He slides in next to her. "Can I help? Can I get you anything? More coffee? Ice-cream? Do you want ice-cream? What kind? Strawberry? Chocolate? Vanilla? Just name the flavour, and I will get it for you, Emily." The set of his shoulders is determined, and he tenses like he's ready to move on her word. He's clutching a red binder in his hands. Her knight in dorky armour, Emily thinks.

"No. Thanks," she interrupts. "Just..." she doesn't know whether she wants him to go, or to stay, so she doesn't finish the sentence.

"Okay," he says slowly. He doesn't move, though, just stays sitting next to her. He's quiet except for the sound of his fingers drumming on the red binder. But it's Sheldon. It's inevitable that -

"So..." he says finally.

"Don't," Emily mumbles.

She turns her face into his shoulder and closes her eyes. After a second, his arm hesitantly wraps around her.

* * *

FILE UNDER:_ done. Finished. Over. The end._

She goes home eventually. Sheldon walks with her, and when they get near her house she can see the front light is on and Jarrod is sitting on her front step, head bowed and hands dangling between his knees. She slows and Sheldon stops.

"It's okay, Sheldon. I can take it from here," she says, and tries to smile.

"I can stay," he says awkwardly. "If you want."

"No," she shakes her head. "I should – I should do this." She looks at him for a long moment, delaying the inevitable, and says, "Thanks."

"Anytime," he assures her, before seeming to consider what he just said. "I mean – I'm not saying that I enjoy" –

"It's okay, Sheldon," she says, because it is. Sheldon's heart is in the right place, even if his words usually aren't. She manages a slightly better smile this time, and after a sympathetic hand squeeze, he nods and turns away. Emily watches him go for a second, before walking slowly forward.

Jarrod doesn't look up until she's right in front of him. When he does meet her eyes, the miserable look on his face makes her want to hold him and make him feel better.

But she knows how this movie ends, courtesy of her front row seat during _Casey and Truman; One Last Last Chance. _He even uses some of the same lines –

"Em – I swear, it was one dumb mistake. This – us – it got so serious, so fast, and I got scared, I got _stupid…_but I love you, okay? I love you and I would never, ever do anything to hurt you."

"But you did," she says steadily. "And…I think you should go."

It doesn't come out angry – it's a simple statement of fact. The second she said 'It's another girl', she knew it was over. Nothing's going to change that.

He drives back to Toronto, even though it's late.

She has to squash the urge to call and make sure he got home safe.

Her mom makes her hot chocolate and defrosts a slice of her special triple fudge cake. Her dad gives her one of his long hugs and rocks her from side to side, one hand cradled behind her head, which makes her feel like she's seven again. Dimi even stops being his obnoxious ten year old self and gives her unrestricted access to the television.

And that's it. The end of Emily Davis' first real love affair. She thinks she's handled it pretty well, all things considered. She didn't even cry.

That is, until four am the next morning, when she wakes up and realizes that her heart's broken into a million sharp pieces and they're scraping her insides painfully every time she breathes.

_Then_ she cries.

She doesn't think she's ever going to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

NOTES: Okay, so the combination of boring thesis revision plus attempts to keep self from nail-biting obviously equals spamfiction! Who knew? Thanks so much to everyone who commented :)

DISCLAIMER: My lack of LWD ownership...let me show you it.

_

* * *

_

_FILE UNDER: messy break ups, top ten embarrassing situations (#4)_

Jarrod leaves messages. She listens to them and cries.

Jarrod sends these long, impassioned emails. She reads them and cries.

Jarrod forgot his old red sweatshirt with the picture of the vinyl record on the front. She wears it and cries.

She spends a lot of time on the couch, watching TV, and she cries every time two people get together. She cries even more when they split up.

This goes on for four days. On the fifth day...

"Mom!" she thumps her fists against the door. "Mom – open the door!"

"I think it would be good for you to get out for a while," her mom replies, slightly muffled.

"I don't want to get out – I want to get _in,_" she explains, this time slapping the flat of her palm against the door.

"You've been moping around the house for days. Try something new – I really think it'll be good for you," her mom says firmly.

Emily gapes at the door. Trust her mother to think her _broken heart_ is just a _bad habit _that she needs to snap out of.

"I don't have any shoes!" she calls back finally – not that she expects that to make much of a difference.

"Wait a minute!" her mom says. A few seconds later, she hears the sound of a window opening, and Dimi's voice drifts down to her.

"Look out below!" he yells, and hurls one of her trainers onto the front lawn. Emily scurries over to pick it up. With perfect timing, Dimi flings the other trainer right onto the sidewalk, in front of Derek Venturi, who bends down and proffers it to her.

She hurries over to him. "Thanks," she says sheepishly, taking it. She drops it on the ground and pushes her foot in. Then, since Derek's just standing there, she says, "Would you mind...?" and she puts a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she gets the back of her shoe up past her heel.

"Thanks," she says again.

Derek shrugs. "So..."

"Don't ask," she says.

"I wasn't going to," he says, and she blinks. He considers her for a moment. "How about we don't talk about it on the way to Smelly Nelly's?"

She thinks about it. "Okay," she says.

When they enter, Sheldon bustles over.

"Wow, Emily – have you lost a lot of weight?" he asks, and looks confused, "...and height?"

She's wearing Jarrod's old sweatshirt that goes down to her knees, and a too-big pair of sweatpants. She looks like she's melting into a puddle. Shouldn't it be obvious that she's lost her _heart_ (...and her fashion sense?).

Obvious enough that it doesn't have to be mentioned at all?

"Hi, Sheldon," she sighs, and stakes out a table in the corner. She doesn't have any money, but it's okay because Sheldon gives her all his wrong orders, so she has an inexhaustible stream of vanilla almond coffees, and strawberry banana milkshakes, and even a choco-waffle with peanuts on the side.

She spends the next couple of hours listlessly stirring the remains of her coffee/milkshake/peanuts and watching the comings and goings of other customers. It's not so bad, she decides. She might as well be miserable here as miserable anywhere else.

The next day, she brings her purse.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: reality check, history repeating (see Truman/Casey notes)_

The horrible achy emptiness doesn't go away. Emily doesn't think it ever will entirely. But it _is_ easier to distract herself in Smelly Nelly's. Over the next couple of days, she starts to notice little things. The girl with the screamingly obvious crush on Derek, who always sits in his section and smiles too widely at him and stacks her plates and cutlery in neat ready-to-collect piles when she's finished. The two twelve year olds who speak broken English but are fluent in cheat-codes. Marina, the waitress who hates Sheldon and begs Derek not to be put on the same shifts as him.

She starts making notes in her file folder. It's just how she works.

Anyway, making notes slows down her coffee consumption and makes her feel less aware of how conspicuously alone she is.

Sheldon sits with her during his breaks, which also helps. He talks about his campaign – which honestly, doesn't seem to be founded on much more than the genetic desire to Shlep all the way to the top.

They're in the middle of discussing whether the P-Pipes should play a medley of Coldspray hits during Sheldon's speech (to highlight his popular appeal) or whether they should stick to 'O Canada' (to underline his classic, upstanding qualities) when her cell phone rings.

She picks it up, but when she sees the name on the screen, she puts it down immediately.

They wait in silence until it stops ringing. Emily stares at a coffee cup ring on the table.

Sheldon breaks the silence. "Maybe you should talk to him," he offers, awkwardly. "I mean...it seems like he really cares about you, and you...you seem miserable without him."

She wordlessly shakes her head. Maybe she could, if she was still the Emily Davis who was happy to get a 'S'up?' from a cool guy – the girl who was happy with what she had, and took everything else as a bonus. But, the thing is – she expects...more...now.

"It wouldn't be the same," she says eventually. And that's true. Second chances only work out if you give them without reservations. And sometimes not even then, as her Truman and Casey notes prove.

When she listens to her messages later, Jarrod finishes by saying, "If I have to call you every day for ten years, I will. Please, Emily, give me a chance."

He sounds just as heartbroken as she feels, and strangely, she _does _believe his apologies. She even believes him when he says he loves her.

It's just...not the kind of love she thought it was.

It doesn't surprise her when the calls stop a week later.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: Don't ask, don't tell (cross-reference with ex-boyfriends: Jarrod Jackson, Derek Venturi, Evan Smythe, Sheldon Shlepper)_

She lies awake at night wearing his sweatshirt, and feels alone. She remembers how they used to curl up together, Jarrod's fingers in her hair, his leg over hers.

She'd worry that she's never going to be touched like that by another guy ever again (because clearly, no-one's ever going to fit so perfectly with her)...if she wasn't so completely sure she's never going to _want _anyone else to ever touch her.

So she lies awake and makes a list of questions she's never going to ask her ex-boyfriends, and goes through it in order of descending importance until she finally falls asleep.

a) Jarrod Jackson

_1) Was she pretty?_

_2) Was she prettier than me?_

_3) If you really felt the way you said you did about me – how could you do that to me? I couldn't._

_4) Would you ever have told me, if I hadn't figured it out?_

_5) Do you feel even a little bit as bad as I do right now?_

b) Derek Venturi

_1) Did you know how you felt about Casey when we got together?_

_2) Did you really like me like that – or did you just like pretending that you did?_

_3) If you didn't feel the way you pretend you don't feel (save it, everyone knows) about Casey...do you think we might have had a chance?_

_4) Okay, so...what happened with Casey? Obviously you broke up, but...details? _

c) Evan Smythe

_1) My mp3 player? Were you __**trying **__to make me break up with you?_

_2) And did you take my charm bracelet?_

_3) If you did – WHY?_

d) Sheldon Shlepper

_1) What the hell would you have done if I had said 'yes'?_

The weird thing is...she already knows most of the answers. It doesn't stop her wanting to ask the questions though.

The even weirder thing is...she really wants to talk to Casey about this stuff. Casey would understand at least some of it, she knows.

But she doesn't call her.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)_

Her parents have this crazy idea that Bad, Soulcrushing Heartbreak should be seen as an opportunity in disguise. They have this optimistic hope that it might spur Emily to work hard, or become a more determined person, or pursue her dreams (or..._identify _some dreams at least) or something.

Yeah. If being best friends with Casey the last couple of years hasn't upped her achievement levels, Emily doesn't see how _this _is going to.

Except...when she mentions this to Sheldon, he frowns and says, "But you _are_ doing something productive."

She stares blankly at him.

"Starting a future Premier on his road to greatness?" he clarifies, as if it should be obvious.

"I am?" she asks –before deciding suddenly, "I am."

Why not?

When she uses the 'future Premier' line on her parents (honestly, just to see their reactions), her mom frowns and says, "We were thinking more along the lines of you going to the library every once in a while."

"Future Premier?" her dad asks. "Is that the fool out front with the jugglers?"

* * *

_FILE UNDER: awkward moments (McDonald-Venturi section)_

There really isn't time to go to the library...even if Emily had wanted to go. Being promoted from Sheldon's unofficial advice-giver to official advisor means there's not a lot of spare time.

In Smelly Nelly's, whenever she's finished with her personal file folder, she updates Sheldon's daily timetable (she said she'd be his personal advisor – she never promised she'd be _Casey_). She tags along when filming begins, and 'personal advisor' suddenly translates into 'leash holder for whatever animals Sheldon's added to the menagerie'. She attends what Sheldon seems to believe are 'strategy meetings' in Derek's house – that closely resemble what other people might call 'mealtimes.'

"I think it's nice. The team that eats together, defeats together," Sheldon says.

Emily tries not to notice how Derek eats with his head down, or how quiet Nora is, or how George keeps finding questions to ask Sheldon about the campaign.

Or how there's plenty of space for both her and Sheldon at the table because Casey isn't there.

The problem is, she's good at noticing.

* * *

"Awkward, huh?" Sheldon says when they're alone in Derek's room (Derek is currently trying to get Edwin out of the mascot suit).

"What?"

Sheldon stares at her. "The tension?"

"Tension?" she tries.

"Wow – you really didn't notice?" he asks. "Nora? Derek? The fact that no-one will mention the C-word?"

She sighs. "The first rule of Derek and Casey is - you don't talk about Derek and Casey." It's the closest thing to an explanation she's got. And it says it all, without saying anything at all. Plausible deniability – it's the second rule of Derek and Casey.

Sheldon nods as he reads her tone. "I guess the family that dates together...doesn't always stay together," he says.

"I guess not," Emily says quietly.

"It's a good thing Derek doesn't plan to run for office," Sheldon offers, thoughtfully. "With a history like that."

Because it's Sheldon, she feels compelled to warn him. "You know, Derek's kind of...upset about it. The _Derek _version of upset," she clarifies, "so I wouldn't" –

"I get it," he interrupts her, with a funny half-smile, "You know, usually my manifesto goes something like, 'vote for me and I won't bore you with my policies, and hey – free pizza?'"

She remembers. And she suddenly gets the extended Shlepper press conference. She smiles down at the floor, shaking her head.

"What?" Sheldon asks.

"Nothing," she says, before finally looking up. "Just...you're a good friend, Sheldon."

"Yeah," he says, looking at her. It's a beat too slow, reminding her that Derek and Casey aren't the only ones with a history here. So she turns away and picks up the camera on Derek's desk.

It's strange looking through the lens. It feels like there's a kind of distance between them, even as Emily moves closer and zooms in so that Sheldon fills the frame.

It's kind of interesting. So when Derek comes in, giant mouse head under his arm, she keeps filming. It's like...she's not Emily – she's a fly on the wall. Which makes it a little more interesting even when the subject under discussion is how much money Edwin deserves for being Sheldon's 'Mousecot'.

So, when she goes to hand back the camera to Derek and he shrugs and says, "Keep it, if you want. It's just a backup" –

She does.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, ancient history (mom)_

Sheldon's campaign is the stuff that those 'Funniest Home Videos' programs are made from. But she also films Dimi watching cartoons, and her dad looking for his keys. It's partly that fly on the wall feeling. It's mostly...well, what else has she got to do?

She's part way through filming her mom fold laundry when a flash of red catches her eye and her heart starts to pound. She abruptly sets the camera down on the table.

"Mom!"

"Hmm?" her mom says, folding Jarrod's sweatshirt, which Emily promptly pulls away from her.

"You washed it," she says accusingly, holding it up to her nose. It smells like fabric softener.

"I had to," her mom says, peacefully continuing to sort clothes. "You've worn it every night for the last two weeks. That thing was ready to walk out of here. It was disgusting."

"I wanted to keep it." She blinks hard, and stares at the sweatshirt. It smelled like him. Like him and her, and okay, she'd done the good, self-respecting thing and dumped him, but it was...it was nice to wear it in bed and breathe in him-and-her and – pretend.

"Well now you can keep it – without offending other people," her mom says briskly.

The thing about her mom is that...she doesn't take Emily seriously. Which...most of the time, Emily doesn't take _herself_ too seriously, so it's fine. Usually, she's all for poking gentle fun at the overwrought drama.

It's not like she pulls this down in the dumps stuff every other week. She's not _Casey. _Shouldn't her mom get that this is kind of a big deal? But instead, her mom has this half-amused look on her face, eyebrows raised – the same kind of look Emily's pretty sure she wears when listening to Casey's-crises-of-the-moment.

"You don't get it," she says.

Her mom stops folding. "Oh, Em," she says, sounding even more amused, if that's possible, "I don't know how to break it to you...but baby, you've got nothing on me."

Emily frowns.

"When I broke up with Con Thacker" –

_Con Thacker?_

"I sat around the house reading magazines and tearing up every picture I could find of happy couples."

Okay, so she's a sucker for gossip, even when it's stale. "Really?" she asks.

Her mom nods.

"So, what happened?" she asks.

Her mom reaches out and puts her hand on Emily's cheek. Still amused looking, but sympathetic too.

"I got over it," she says simply.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (Casey McDonald)_

Her mom doesn't even seem to register Emily's bad mood, so she goes and sulks outside. It's the normal response to basically having a roll of scotch tape shoved at her broken heart, when she really wanted sympathy. And possibly ice-cream.

She sits on the sidewalk and films the sky and the ground and the houses, until she sees Derek walking home and she films that instead, until he's right in front of her. Then she lowers the camera.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asks.

"Throwing a pity party," she says wryly.

He swings himself down next to her.

"What are _you_ doing?"

"Gatecrashing."

"Uh-uh," she says, and gestures at herself, "You must be at least this broken up to get a party invite."

She immediately regrets it – it's a clear breach of rule #1 of Derek-and-Casey. But Derek just shrugs and says, "I think it only counts as a break up if both of you agree you're going out in the first place."

The words are light, but he stares straight ahead, careful not to meet her eyes.

"Harsh," she observes mildly.

He doesn't respond and they sit there quietly for a while, until Sheldon shows up with the streamers.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)_

Unlike everyone else, Sheldon is sympathetic.

But in a Sheldon way.

"You know," she says conversationally, "When you said you wanted to take my mind off my heartbreak with shopping...I didn't realize you meant shopping for _you_."

"I respect your opinion," Sheldon says, "And I have to exploit every advantage if I want to beat Jimbo Patterson. Sheldon Shlepper: forward thinking policies, and forward thinking fashion." He frowned down at the pants draped over his arm. "Do you think the blue checked shirt goes with these?"

It's not all bad. As a thank you, Sheldon insists they stop for coffee and a dessert – his treat.

Of course, Emily ends up lending him twenty dollars to pay for it.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, ancient history (dad)_

"Sara Walters," her dad says, half-smiling.

"So," Emily says, pointing the camera at him, "Who broke up with who?"

He sighs. "I broke up with her."

"And why?" The camera is great – it's like Emily's a news-reporter...only _her_ stories are interesting.

Her dad scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, "She...didn't like KISS."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"She didn't like KISS. They're a band," he clarifies sheepishly.

"She didn't like KISS," Emily repeats slowly. "You broke up with your first serious girlfriend because she didn't like a _band?_ That is...that is the _dumbest_ reason I've ever heard for breaking up with someone."

"Yeah, well...what can I say? I was an idiot. All guys are knuckleheads at that age." He pauses. "But...we grow up. Eventually. And we get smarter. And in the end – we learn to appreciate the right girls. The best ones."

He gives her an awkward smile, and she smiles back, touched.

* * *

"–teacher really inspired me," Sheldon says, speaking to Derek's camera. "And I think that by talking to her, you'll really get the essence of Sheldon Shlepper."

He rings the bell again, and the door finally opens. They all get a brief glimpse of a shocked face, before they're suddenly staring at the door again.

"Mrs Goodwin?" Sheldon calls. "Hi! It's me, Sheldon Shlepper!"

"Go away!"

Sheldon frowns. "Remember, you used to teach me in grade ten, before I moved away? I said that when I came back, I'd come and visit." He turns and faces Emily. "And here's something you need to know...Sheldon Shlepper doesn't break a promise."

He maintains eye-contact and Emily tries to look inspired, in case Derek decides to use this (obviously in a severely edited form). There's something...sweet about the way he says it, and she smiles at him.

The silence is broken by Derek asking, "Does Sheldon Shlepper break a restraining order?" as he peers through the side window.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: post break-up (Jarrod Jackson), life goes on_

She wears the sweatshirt to bed again, once – but it isn't the same, it doesn't smell like him anymore. So in the end, she gets up and puts it at the back of a drawer. It's harder to get to sleep without it, the next few days. But Emily does her best, and puts depuffing eye gel in her bag, because Derek has a habit of cutting to her sometimes when they're filming.

Call her shallow, but she doesn't want to wear her broken heart all over her face.

Then Sheldon hits on the idea of maximizing the Cute Overload potential of his campaign and finding a home for homeless dog Fletch (Sheldon Shlepper: animal activist). Emily's arms almost get pulled out of their sockets while they pound the pavements looking for someone willing to take a chance on an enormous golden retriever/donkey hybrid with an insatiable appetite.

They finally _do_ find the perfect family to take on Fletch (hyperactive kids, incredibly relaxed parents), and Sheldon turns to face the camera and PSAs over the sound of shrieking children, "I've always believed there's a perfect match for everyone – and lucky for Fletch, it uh, it looks like I was right."

Something about Sheldon's words, combined with the jumping children and Fletch chasing his own tail makes that one kind of worth the arm strain.

Plus suddenly, sleeping soundly at night is no longer an issue.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, awkward moments (McDonald-Venturi section)_

It's kind of addictive, being the one behind the camera. It's like...it gives her the authority to ask the questions she wants to ask. And for some reason, it makes people more inclined to answer her – even people who aren't totally on board with the interview thing. Case in point –

"So why did you break up?"

Lizzie keeps writing. "Apathy," she says briefly.

Emily considers this. It's a new one. "And who broke up with who?"

Lizzie's pen moves faster. "I don't...I mean, it wasn't like that. We just kind of drifted apart. It was – it was mutual."

"Yeah," Edwin scoffs. "Says you. I'm the one who had the guy crying on my shoulder. Face it, Liz, you _destroyed _him."

Emily perks up. This sounds way more interesting.

Lizzie glares at Edwin. "I did not! It wasn't that big a deal." She looks straight at the camera for the first time. "Why do break-ups have to be such a big deal? Why does everyone _always_ make them such a big deal? Why can't – why can't it just be 'we dated and we didn't work out and we decided we're okay not being together'? Why does everyone have to be mad, or sad, or not here, or _dumb _about it? Why is it _always_ such a big _stupid_ deal?"

There's an awkward silence that's broken when Edwin swallows and forces a laugh. "A direct quote there from Lizzie McDonald – guy crusher." He taps his fingers against his leg and continues, "Now, _my_ first break-up couldn't have been more different" –

"Really?" Lizzie interrupts. "Because the way I remember it, the girl did the dumping in that case too."

Emily wonders why – since Edwin's just clearly demonstrated his ability to salvage a situation.

Derek's dad tells her a story about being asked to a dance by a girl he had a huge crush on. When Emily asks him who ended up breaking up with who, he frowns and says, "I think her boyfriend broke us up, actually. Literally, now that I think about it."

Nora on the other hand always seems to be in the middle of something important and "– can't right now, Emily." She always smiles, but there's something not exactly right about it. Even though she seems apologetic, it's like she's talking to a client – kind of...professional sounding.

Of course, it might be that Emily's usually standing next to Derek when she asks.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: epiphanies (see 'translating Casey to English' section), weird fashion trends (retro: hot or not?)_

Honestly, she's a little embarrassed it takes her so long to figure it out. After all – she's gone clothes shopping with Sheldon. She still has scratches on her arms from the time Rover hauled her through the bushes. Derek has footage of her clutching Sheldon's red binder to her chest and staring at him like he's humanity's last hope.

But the day she finally decides she can't continue ignoring the her/Sheldon weirdness...is when she's watching him talk to Karen Jacobs.

It's like being back in high school. Karen Jacobs is even wearing her cheerleader outfit. Okay, it's a little more...stretched looking than it used to be, given that Karen seems to have put on a few pounds, but _still._

Of course, it's also nothing like being back in high school, because Karen Jacobs has her hand on Sheldon's arm and she's batting her eyelashes at him, and saying things like, "Sheldon, this is just...amazing. I can't believe you pulled all this together. You're so – dedicated."

Just like that, watching Karen Jacobs squeeze Sheldon Shlepper's arm, Emily has what Casey used to call 'an epiphany.' She ends up fumbling the leash off her wrist and giving it to Marti and walking away.

She waits until she's at a safe distance before she sits down on the sidewalk and contemplates said epiphany. It's every bit as awkward as the word itself is. But she only gets a few minutes before Derek's suddenly in front of her, still filming. He doesn't offer any explanation.

"Shouldn't you be filming the rest of Karen's interview?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I think I got the basics." He pauses, then amends, "The _very_ basics."

"I don't see what she has to do with Sheldon's campaign, anyway," Emily can't stop herself from saying.

Derek helpfully explains, "It shows that Sheldon can net hot babes. Automatic guy vote."

"Yeah – except Karen Jacobs hated Sheldon's guts in high school. I remember being in the girls' bathroom once, and hearing her talking to all her friends about what a loser he was and how she couldn't believe he actually had a girlfriend. I pushed right through her personal pep squad to make sure she saw me and felt embarrassed."

"And was she?"

"She would have been – if she'd known who I was," Emily says. She shakes her head. "But what's changed? Since when is _Sheldon _cool?"

She doesn't mean it in a mean way. Just – 'cool' has never been one of Sheldon's defining characteristics.

"He's not," Derek says, and sits next to her, camera in his lap. "He's retro."

"Retro?" Emily repeats.

"Yeah. He reminds Karen Jacobs of high school - a simpler time, when keeners stayed at the bottom of the social heap, and she ruled the school with an iron pom-pom."

Emily contemplates this. Filtered through a haze of nostalgia, Karen Jacobs' behavior becomes understandable. "I guess that makes sense," she admits.

There's a silence. Derek shifts like he's going to get up, but Emily doesn't move.

"So...why are we still here?" Derek asks.

Emily stares at her feet. "I just...watching Karen and Sheldon, I kind of – realized something."

Suddenly, Derek starts fiddling with the camera. "Hang on...just a minute." He raises it and prompts, "Okay – and go! You realized..."

Emily does _not_ need video evidence of this epiphany, so she says, "No. No, it's...okay. Really."

Derek lowers the camera for an instant. He fixes her with an irritated look and says, exasperated, "_You realized..._" before hoisting the camera again.

She shuts her eyes tight and confesses, "I'm a Shleppette."

When she opens her eyes, the camera is in Derek's lap again, and he's staring at her in complete confusion. "You're a what now?"

"A Shleppette," she repeats.

"O-kay," Derek says.

She sighs. "You know, those girls that Sheldon hired to follow him around and...announce him?"

"Oh, yeah..."

"I know Sheldon's speeches off by heart. I've put together a functional yet fashionable wardrobe for him. I've spent the last two days _holding his goat! _Why else would I do that if I'm not a Shleppette?"

What other explanation could there be for her sudden over- involvement in all things Sheldon?

"You're not a Shleppette," Derek says, as if he actually believes it.

Emily blinks as a horrible thought enters her head. "Great. You're right." The tone of her voice suggests that it's anything _but _great. "Sheldon _paid_ those girls to hang around with him! I pay _Sheldon!" _She pauses for a moment as she remembers the twenty dollars she gave Sheldon, and the whole, awful truth dawns upon her. _"_I'm beyond a Shleppette. I'm the _uber_-Shleppette. There are no depths to which I will not Shlep!"

Derek considers her. "We should probably look into getting you a uniform or something."


	3. Chapter 3

NOTES: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything LWD. I'm doing this purely for fun (can you tell?)

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepperness)_

Derek insists that they go back, even though Emily protests, "I'm pretty sure that returning to the scene of the Shlep is not going to make me feel better."

"Come on – you know you don't want to miss the inevitable."

They get back just in time to hear Karen Jacobs giggle and say, "Well, Shel – I should stop distracting you and work my magic, huh? I have to tell you, I'm a little nervous – I haven't done any of this stuff in a while...and you might not have noticed, but I've put on a couple of pounds."

She waits expectantly for the denial/compliment – but what she gets is –

"Oh no – I noticed. But then, that uniform is pretty tight – are you sure you're comfortable? I really don't want a wardrobe malfunction to distract from the important issues of this camp" –

"Okay, you were right," Emily admits, as Karen Jacobs sends Sheldon sprawling then stomps away. "I do feel better."

"Question," Sheldon calls to Derek as he gets to his feet, "Do we still have enough cheerleaders for the pyramid?"

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (feelings: having them)_

It turns out though, that pointing and laughing at 'the inevitable' is only the start. Soon Sheldon has to go – late shift at Smelly Nelly's – and Emily finds herself tagging along with Derek as he shows her the inner workings of Derek Productions.

It turns out that Sheldon isn't the only one availing of Derek's services. It also turns out that what most people want to say with a Derek production...is some variation of 'F*** you.'

So Emily watches as teenage girls troop their way into the McDonald Venturi home, sit on the McDonald Venturi couch, and curse/cry their way through speeches that generally go something like –

" – can't believe you did that. But I'm better off without you anyway. And all my friends thought you were a total loser anyway and I hate you now! If you hadn't broken up with me, I would have broken up with you!"

– while Derek films them. After the third break-up video (when Emily realizes there isn't going to _be _any other kind of video), he turns to her and says, "So?"

She's not entirely sure what to say. "Wow. You're...in the business of misery."

Derek shrugs. "Just worked out that way."

Emily nods slowly. If she were Casey, she'd probably point out that it's kind of an interesting coincidence and might have something to do with the fact that Derek likes to express his deepest emotions by, weirdly, suppressing them. She majored in Derek Venturi all through high-school. Casey wasn't the only one to notice this stuff.

Casey was usually the one to call him out on it though.

So when Derek says, "Make you feel better?" she just keeps watching the teen angst parade.

Strangely...it does make her feel a little better. Kind of like...yes, she's alone – but she's not the only one. She's not the only one with a broken heart and a boyfriend who couldn't keep his end of the faithfulness bargain. Even though she _knew_ that – how could she not, when she's got piles of data on Truman-and-Casey (Monogamy: The Final Frontier) – this is different.

It's one thing to _remember_ that – it's something else to have the proof sitting in front of her, crying mascara-tinged tears and sobbing incoherently about missed birthdays.

"Cut," she says suddenly, in the middle of a taping.

Derek lowers the camera, and the girl stares at her, startled. But Emily refuses to be embarrassed, not when it's something this important. She turns to Derek and says, "Derek – you can't let her go through with this...not like this...it's not right."

He has this half-expectant look on his face, and Emily wonders if he's counting on her to be Casey-by-proxy, and chew him out for exploiting female pain for financial gain (which is obviously what Derek would like to _think_ he's doing, but is just as obviously not the whole twisted story).

But Emily's not Casey. So she grabs her bag and takes out some tissues and her depuffing eye-gel and mounts a clean-up operation. "Trust me," she tells the girl, "You'll thank me for this later. Now close your eyes."

When the supply of vengeful teenage girls dries up, there's the editing to take care of. Emily sits on the end of Derek's bed and watches him work on the computer. There are open CD cases everywhere, and on the floor near Derek's desk, there's a small explosion of photographs (mostly of guys with devil horns drawn on their heads, or scribbled out faces, or blacked out, soulless eyes).

"Wow," Emily says, taking it all in, and watching the movement of Derek's fingers on the keyboard. The clacking sounds terrifyingly productive. "When do you sleep?"

"I don't," he says easily. It's clearly meant to be a joke, but she can feel her eyebrows rising. Before she can say anything though, he spins in his chair and picks up his camera again.

"So – want to try it?"

"Try what?"

He holds up the camera. "Some closure. No charge."

It's almost exactly the same thing she's been doing. Just...with more profanity.

"No," she says, too fast. "I'm okay. Really."

He looks at her for a long moment, and it makes her uncomfortable. "Okay," he says. "Well, if you change your mind..."

* * *

_FILE UNDER: post breakup, sisterhood (metaphorical. Cross reference with Casey McDonald/feminism)_

Lying in bed that night, she knows that she's not going to change her mind.

But she does keep thinking about the broken-up-brigade. She feels weirdly connected to them. They're all part of the same, sad sisterhood. Plus...Derek.

Casey would probably be outraged, Emily guesses. If she didn't object on the grounds of Derek charging (a pretty _small_ fee, when Emily considers the amount of work involved in pulling a half-decent break-up speech out of the rubble of devastated girl), she'd probably object because 'closure' is supposed to happen after mature, calm post-breakup conversation.

She thinks about Jarrod. She doesn't feel mature or calm. Anyway, Casey's always been unrealistic about that stuff. Derek's venture is at least honest about the basics of breaking up (misery/ lashing out/pretending you're better off without the break-upper). As a guy, though, he's missing one crucial detail.

So the next day, she hauls her makeup case over to Derek's house. "Pre breakup-video makeovers," she explains when he looks at her blankly.

He thinks about it for a minute, then nods.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: breakups a-z, ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and awkward moments_

Emily doesn't ask Derek, which might seem strange given that he basically spends his evenings dissecting other people's relationships. But the way she looks at it – she's already got the closest thing to a Derek-and-Casey break-up story that she's ever going to get. It even feels weirdly right that said break-up story consists of one ambiguous sentence and an inadvertent close-up of Derek's shoes.

She asks Sheldon, though.

"That's...kind of personal, isn't it?"

She stares at him. "Yesterday we spent an hour deciding whether female voters would prefer it if you wore boxers or briefs."

"Public figures are sexualized," Sheldon explains. "It would be naive to assume that all women are going to vote for me based on my policies."

"Okay!" Emily interrupts. She aims the camera. "So – first real break-up? And don't spare the trauma."

Sheldon gestures towards the kitchens. "Yeah – I should really..."

"Come on," she coaxes. "You don't have to get all specific. I won't even ask you her name."

He just stands and looks at her for a long second, long enough for Emily to become uncomfortable. But just as she's about to lower the camera, he says, in a voice that's clearly trying for matter-of-fact, "I was sixteen. Um. And she turned me down."

She lowers the camera, and Sheldon turns towards the kitchens. She does call after him, but he just keeps moving, back very straight. She could pretend she's not glad about that, because honestly, what could she say?

Instead she just blinks down at the table and resigns herself to feeling horrible for a little while.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: best friends (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (Caseyness, Derek Venturi)_

Two days later, and that situation has settled down, since both she and Sheldon studiously avoid mentioning it. So, of course, Casey calls. But, because it's while the pan-pipers are rehearsing, Emily doesn't hear it, and it goes straight to voice-mail.

"Hi Em! It's me! I just wanted to, you know, say hi! So...hi! How are you? And – everyone? I mean – your mom and dad and Dimi. And – and...everyone. I'm good! I mean, I'm having a good time. A great time! This is such a great opportunity, you know – it's so worthwhile. I can't imagine _not_ doing it! Making the world a better place through dance! It's...it's...so – what's happening with you? And...everyone? You know what – I should call back later. Talk to you soon! Say hi to – everyone for me. Hope you're having as good a time as I am!"

She sounds cheerful. The kind of cheerful that you really don't want to leave with access to anything sharp.

Emily gets the message shortly after the pan-pipers have packed up. Halfway through the message, when Casey's still jabbering in her ear, she accidentally catches Derek's eye, just for a second, and this electric flash of almost-guilt throbs through her. The strange thing is, she's not sure it's even _her own_ feeling (she hasn't done anything to feel guilty about). The stranger thing is, this reaction isn't new.

She takes a moment to remember just how much she hasn't missed being a human conductor for other people's feelings.

Okay, maybe more than a moment, given that hours later she's in a booth at Smelly Nelly's and she still hasn't called Casey back. She taps her cell phone gently against the table and frowns.

"Relationships," she says, when Sheldon asks her what she's thinking about.

"Oh?" he says, and suddenly swings into the seat opposite her.

"Why do they have to be so complicated?" she says.

"Maybe they don't," Sheldon offers. "Or – not all of them. I mean, maybe, if you look through your past relationships you might find – hey! There's an almost-perfect relationship I seem to have completely forg" –

"Take Derek and Casey," she interrupts.

Sheldon blinks. "I guess we could...use them as a starting point..."

She checks the time. "Actually, we can't. Sorry, I have to go. Pre-video makeovers wait for no-one. I'll see you at Derek's, later?"

"Oh. Yeah," he says.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: general weirdness (McDonald-Venturi section)_

It's strange how, suddenly, Derek Productions expands. After Edwin watches Emily work her makeover magic, he says, thoughtfully, "It's weird, I never noticed but...when their makeup isn't running – some of these girls are pretty _smokin'_."

After that, he finds excuses to lurk during tapings.

Marti dresses up in trailing scarves and shawls and puts a turban on her head. She walks around with a fishbowl full of fortunes – tiny scraps of paper that cost a dollar, and contain messages like, 'Cheer up. Someone will buy you a pony.' The combination of cute kid plus costume plus fortune-telling is a winner (much better than the lemonade stand) and she makes a killing. As a matter of fact, she goes through fortunes so fast, she has to little-sister Lizzie and Edwin into writing some of the replacements.

And Lizzie hovers by the kitchen sometimes – half in and half out of the scene in front of her...but even that isn't as awkward as Emily thinks it's going to be. Actually, the more often it happens, the less awkward it gets.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: best friends (Casey McDonald), sisterhood (metaphorical)_

She does call Casey back. It's kind of late, after Sheldon's strategy meeting, but she doesn't use that as an excuse.

It's not that she doesn't want to talk to Casey. It's that she doesn't want to talk to Casey about Derek. Or, to be totally honest, she doesn't want to _not _talk to Casey about Derek. Because she gets the feeling from Casey's message, that talking to Casey is going to be less of a conversation, and more of a...sidestepping of conversational landmines.

But she calls anyway. It goes to voicemail, which honestly, she's kind of glad about. It's hard enough to plan out what she's going to say, without having to factor in Casey's contribution.

"Hey, Case! It's great to hear from you. Sorry I missed your call. You sound...busy. Things are good, here. I'm fine. Everything's fine. ...Everyone's...fine. Um. I guess that's it. No real news here. So, I should probably go..." She stops, and bites her lip, remembering Casey's determinedly upbeat message. "But...um, if you want to talk – about anything...I'm here, okay? Well – I guess I'll catch up with you soon. It was – it was nice almost-talking to you. Bye, Case."

She hangs up.

It hits her, afterwards, that she forgot to tell Casey about her breakup with Jarrod. Not the way she carefully 'forgot' to mention Derek's name...it wasn't even _there - _held back, but on the tip of her tongue. It wasn't there at all.

Casey doesn't call back.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (Casey McDonald)_

"Wow – brings back memories, huh?" Sheldon muses as they walk down the hallways of Sir John Sparrow Thompson High. There's a kids summer camp on, and Sheldon's hoping to score an adorably crooked 'Vote Shlepper' banner crafted by childish hands. "You know, I never really got that whole 'high school being the best time of your life' saying, but coming back here? It's like I can taste the nostalgia in the air."

"I think that's the floor wax," Emily says, wrinkling her nose.

Sheldon takes a deep breath. "New brand. Huh."

"If we're done reliving the lemon-scented good old days, maybe we could get a move on?" Derek says, still filming – though Emily thinks that's probably an excuse to get out of carrying the boxes of art supplies. They round the corner and there, waiting at the door of the gym is a harried looking guy in his mid twenties.

"Oh thank God!" he says, then calls over his shoulder, "_The sleeping contest is NOT OVER! Heads down – and NO SLEEP-FIGHTING!" _In a slightly calmer tone, he says, "You're just in time – they tore up all the Junior Sudoku sheets. You brought the art supplies, right?"

Sheldon hands over his box, then digs around in his pocket and extracts a sheet of paper. "Okay, so here's the correct spelling of my name, along with some suggestions for the banner – 'Vote Shlepper: Easy as 1, 2, 3', or 'Sheldon Shlepper: An ABC of Smart Policy,' or" –

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay. _I see what you're doing, Jessica Miller, and I am NOT impressed!_"

Emily looks at Derek, to share her amusement. The guy sounds seriously frazzled. But Derek's just...staring, camera lowered, a slight frown on his face.

" – could you make sure they print the 's's back to front?" Sheldon asks. "Nothing tugs at the heartstrings like a couple of letter reversals."

"Sure, sure," the guy says, running a hand through his hair. Suddenly he straightens. "Hey! I've got a better idea! _You_ can do it!" He darts another glance over his shoulder. "_Ethan Wu, I am...amazed that you can lift him, actually, but PUT HIM DOWN!_"

"Somehow I think voters would prefer to think their elected representatives can form all their letters correctly," Sheldon says. "Just a hunch."

"No! Not – not that...I meant you can help out! And your friends, too – if they want."

There's a bang from inside the room, and the guy shuts his eyes.

"It _would_ make a good segment for your campaign video," Emily says.

"Sheldon Shlepper...the children's choice," he says slowly. "Great! We'll do it!"

At this point, two little girls sidle up to the guy at the door.

"I have to go to the bathroom," the dark-haired one says imperiously.

"I need to go too."

"Oh no! No no _no_!" the guy says. "I am not letting the two of you go to the bathroom again – not after last time. Jessica, you go first. Haley, you're just going to have to wait."

Jessica hops off down the hallway while the other child fixes the guy with an unblinking stare and begins the dance of 'I can't hold it for very much longer'. He whimpers. "Go."

Emily watches as she pushes past Derek and gleefully makes her way in the same direction as her friend, then frowns at Derek's carefully blank face.

"Right, well, why don't you guys come in, and I'll divide up the rugbrats between you!"

"Yeah, and I'll see ya later." Derek takes a step backwards.

"You're not going to help?" Sheldon says, confused. "But – who's going to film this?"

Derek shrugs. "Not my problem," he says simply, before turning and loping away.

They stare after him for a second before Emily starts after him – only to stop at the feeling of a hand gripping her elbow.

"I'll be back," she says in exasperation, detaching summer-camp-guy's clingy fingers.

"Promise?" he asks.

She makes her way down the hallway and around the corner, past Jessica - who is gravely mummifying the other girl with the aid of a roll of toilet paper - and out the door, where she catches up to Derek.

"Hey, you ditched Childcare 101 too," he says, sounding pleased.

She ignores this. "What was that about?"

"I've got a late shift this evening, and _this_," he gestures to the school, "wasn't in the contract."

"And the donkeys yesterday _were_?" she says disbelievingly. She gets the general idea – somehow this is Derek's Casey-equivalent of a red sweatshirt with a vinyl record on the front – even if she's not clear on the specifics.

Of course, Derek won't admit to it. "Shlepper's behind on his payments. Technically, I haven't been his director for two weeks."

"Then why didn't you quit two weeks ago?"

"Did Sheldon ever pay you back that twenty?" Derek asks suddenly.

"What?"

"Because I'm betting that being his 'campaign advisor' is about as profitable as being his director."

She looks at him for a long moment before digging in her pocket and pulling out ten dollars. She holds it out. "Here. How much time does this buy?"

He stares. "Emily" –

"Because this is about money, right? It's definitely not about anything else. So how much?"

Even though she keeps holding out the ten dollars, he doesn't make any move to take it.

"You're really working that Shleppette thing," Derek observes, but not meanly.

She shrugs. "Sheldon's a friend. Anyway, there are worse things to be." She tucks the money back in her pocket. "I'll see you later," she says, and turns.

He catches up with her in the toilet-paper-decorated hallway, and they walk the rest of the way together. She keeps sneaking looks at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"What?" he asks in a 'don't make a big deal of it' voice.

"Nothing," she says. Her mouth twitches a little. "I'm just wondering whether we should get you a uniform."


	4. Chapter 4

NOTES: So yes, again with the crazy! Also, many thanks to everyone who reviewed - my apologies if I didn't reply...there was an unpleasant laptopless period for a while.

DISCLAIMER: Please - these characters thank their lucky stars every night that they don't belong to me :)

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and…sisterhood (metaphorical. Definitely metaphorical)_

Sheldon seems surprised when Derek enters. "Wow," he says to Emily, sounding kind of nonplussed. "What's your secret?"

She can't spill that Derek's disappearance was a Casey-related spaz, since this would violate the new and depressing break-up-bond she and Derek seem to share – so she just shrugs and says, "I guess I'm just an amazing campaign advisor."

"Yeah," Sheldon says slowly, abstractedly. "The best."

They start work on the banner, and Derek films Sheldon kneeling next to a solemn little boy and carrying on a very serious conversation about his artwork, completely oblivious to the screaming children running around with paint-streaked faces. It's adorable and Emily can feel herself smiling.

Then Derek swings the camera in her direction, and she figures she'd better find something to do.

In the end, she has to take over the filming, because it turns out that Derek is the only one capable of motivating the children to finish the banner. He divides them into teams, and says that they get to have a 'paint-sneezing' contest with the leftover colors when they're done.

Derek's really good with the kids, which maybe shouldn't surprise her, since she suddenly remembers that Casey had volunteered to run a summer camp once, and somehow ended up enlisting him ("Derek has the mind of a child – of course he's able to relate to them!") – and oh. She gets it now.

The day ends with Jessica demonstrating the fruit of her dance classes. David, with an eye to tomorrow's activity schedule, hopefully mentions that a dance-routine would certainly help Sheldon's campaign video stand out, as well as improving the children's body-kinaesthetic intelligence and giving them an outlet for creative expression.

Jessica volunteers to choreograph.

Honestly, Emily thinks 'standing out' is the _last _problem Sheldon's ever going to have. But Shlepping is in Sheldon's blood, so he turns to Derek and says, "What do you think?"

Derek shrugs, like it really doesn't matter – and Emily's suddenly glad she forced the issue. Someone's got to be the bad guy, and the red sweatshirt's got to be washed eventually.

Her good feeling lasts until the kids have been collected, and Sheldon says, thoughtfully, "You know what would make our Two-Step-Shlep perfect?"

"Not calling it that?" Derek suggests.

"Costumes! Hey – do you think Nora" –

"No," Derek says, quick and sharp and leaving no room for argument.

Emily realizes it's going to take a long time before Derek's red sweatshirt makes it to the final spin cycle.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: post break-up, top ten embarrassing situation__s (__#2)_

It's funny, the more she works as a makeover artist, and the more break-up videos she witnesses, the less said videos look like a pathetic, if necessary, part of the break-up process, and the more…empowering they seem.

Closure _and _a chance to stick it to the ex via makeover? The idea winks at her every so often, and she finds herself…flirting back.

So, the day after they finally wrap up the Two-Step-Shlep (pretty much a disaster, since the kids are being choreographed by a seven year old – but an adorable disaster), Emily rolls up her sleeves and takes a couple of hours to completely overhaul her image.

It's not that she thinks Everyday-Emily is _bad – _Everyday-Emily is cute. But, looking at it objectively…Jarrod is hot. And hot guys generally get together/cheat on steady girlfriends – with hot girls. Jarrod's not-so-ex is probably the kind of girl advertisers use for clear-skin commercials. She probably doesn't know clothing comes in double-digit sizes, and Emily imagines that she doesn't have everyday underwear – she has matching _lingerie _sets.

If Emily's going to inspire any kind of break-up-regret in Jarrod, she's got to go all out. Over the top in a good way. Cute just isn't going to cut it.

So she goes for shorter and tighter than normal, and lower-cut than...ever. Then she covers up with a trenchcoat, since the combination of short, tight, low-cut and 'just going to Derek's house' is a sure-fire way to kill her parents. She calls out a vague 'See you later' to her dad, who spares her a brief look and grunt before returning his attention to his sandwich, and then she makes her way next door.

Derek answers the door, and she unbelts her trenchcoat. His eyebrows jump.

Edwin glances over from television, elbow deep in an enormous bag of chips, and does a double-take.

"Can we go to your room?" she asks.

A weird strangled noise comes from the direction of the couch. Derek ignores this and says, "Okay."

He fiddles with the camera while Emily sits at the end of his bed and waits. She puts her hands together in her lap and mindlessly lets her right heel slide out of her shoe, then in again, over and over.

"Ready," Derek says finally. He holds up the camera. "Shoot."

She straightens and looks into the camera, holding her head high.

She opens her mouth...and nothing comes out.

"We're rolling, so anytime you want to start," Derek reminds her.

She takes a deep breath, ready to begin – but it catches in her throat, and instead of being filled with angry words and a 'to hell with you!' attitude, she finds herself choking back tears. Unsuccessfully.

"Um..." she says, in a voice that can't decide what pitch it should be, and her shoulders start to shake.

It only lasts for a minute or two.

Then she wipes her face with her hands, and makes a face when she sees the mascara smudges on her fingers. Awkwardly, she smile-grimaces at Derek and says, "Sorry. For the meltdown."

He relaxes a little. "I don't know how to break it to you, but on the Casey scale of crazy – that barely rated. I didn't even have to dig out my hazmat suit."

Mentally, she eyerolls, because the fact that she's spooked him enough that he's voluntarily mentioning Casey's name kind of undermines what he's just said. But she appreciates the gesture.

"Thanks. I think." She half-smiles and swipes a hand over her face again. "Um. I'm going to go."

"Okay," Derek says, clearly relieved. Then, obviously remembering some basic-girl from their previous relationship, he says, uneasily, "I mean...are you sure?"

She nods. She's messed up her chance to make an awesome break-up video pretty thoroughly. Slowly, she thumps down the stairs.

When she opens the front door, she almost bumps into Sheldon, clasping his red binder.

"Sheldon!" she says, trying to sound upbeat. She suddenly feels embarrassed, and she doesn't really know why.

"Emily? What's wrong?" He sounds worried.

"Nothing's wrong," she says, too fast. "Why would anything be wrong?"

"You look upset," he says. He shuffles his feet, and takes her in quickly, from mascara-streaked face to high-heeled feet. Self-consciously, she tugs her skirt down a little more. Hesitantly, he asks, "Are...that is – did…you and Derek – are you…" –

"It's no big deal," Emily says. "We were...making a video, and I just...got a little upset."

He stares at her, and it makes her nervous. She downplays it, and says again, "But it's really no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal!" he disagrees so forcefully that it makes her blink. "I just can't believe that Derek would – I mean, taking advantage of you like that" – he shakes his head, then straightens up, and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Stay here," he says, then holds out the red binder. "Hold this."

Dumbly, she takes it, and he pushes past her and up the stairs, moving with purpose and determination, and only tripping once. Emily stares after him for a second, face scrunching in confusion.

She reviews the last few mystifying seconds. "What just happened?" she says, looking over at Edwin – no longer watching television.

Edwin begins cautiously, "You...uh – you don't think...?" and he raises his eyebrows significantly in the direction of her chest.

Her eyes widen as she realizes that Sheldon has taken the components 'Derek', 'video' and her…and somehow assembled an X-rated jigsaw.

She leaps (or carefully hops, given the high heels she's wearing) for the stairs. She can hear Edwin following, chip packet rustling in his hands. She bursts into the bedroom to see Sheldon yanking at the camera in Derek's hands.

" – demand that all copies be destroyed" –

Derek doesn't seem to be listening. "What is your _problem, _Shlepper?"

"My problem? My _problem_? My problem is that you're taking advantage of my campaign advisor!"

Derek makes a confused "Bzuh?" noise. Emily taps his shoulder, but Sheldon doesn't seem to register it. He shakes his head. "Derek – how could you? I mean, you of all people should know that Emily is really vulnerable right now" –

Something twists a little bit inside her hearing Sheldon so misguidedly and unnecessarily defending her honor. She taps his shoulder again, more forcefully. "Sheldon…"

"Just a minute, Emily." He turns back to Derek. "Face it – she's completely irrational!"

Okay. Less touched now, more annoyed. She thumps his shoulder. "SHELDON!"

He gestures at her with his hand, like 'you see what I'm talking about?' before turning back to her with an inquiring look.

"Sheldon, Derek isn't taking advantage of me," she says, slowly and clearly.

He puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Emily, I know you probably think it's a mutual decision, but trust me, you are in _no_ state" –

"_Okay_," she interrupts. "Just _what_ do you think is going on here, Sheldon?"

Edwin crunching chips sounds loud in the silence that follows.

"Well," he says eventually, delicately. "Clearly…" he makes circular gestures between Derek and herself. They both stare blankly back at him, and he clears his throat. "You said you guys were 'making a video' and…" he indicates her outfit, and raises his eyebrows, before trailing off at the look on her face.

In the rush of trying to un-misinform Sheldon as quickly as possible, it hadn't occurred to her to be insulted.

_Now_ it does.

"So, you're saying I look like a porn star," she says with deliberate calm, and crosses her arms.

There's another crunchy silence.

"…in a good way?" Sheldon hazards.

"For your information," she says, getting angrier with each clearly enunciated word, because even though this is a bit of a departure from Everyday-Emily, she _does not_ look like a _porn star_, "We were making a break-up video." Sheldon looks abashed, but that's too little, too late, and she continues on, "But now that I think about it – it's a good idea!"

"Emily" –

"Derek can set up the camera again, and _you_ can go fu" – her awesome closing line is ruined by Edwin choking on his chips in anticipation, " – rself."

So she hurls the red binder at him instead, waits long enough to see that it glances off his upraised arm, then makes a ginger but graceful high-heeled exit.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and awkward (incredibly awkward) moments_

She spends all night thinking up snappy put-downs to the embarrassed apologies Sheldon is bound to make – for starters, she's going to make him pay back that twenty. With interest.

But the next day, when she enters Smelly Nellys and Sheldon stops at her table and does this throat-clearing thing…and she abruptly figures out that she doesn't want a long drawn-out apology. It seems like too much _effort _to be mad at him. And after all, she's going to end up forgiving him _anyway_. So he only gets as far as –

"Emily – "

– before she interrupts him, holding up her hand and saying, "It's okay, Sheldon."

He stops. "Really?" he asks, frowning as if she's setting him up for a fall.

"Really," she stresses. "Why don't we just…forget you ever insinuated I looked like – you know what? I've forgotten already."

He looks at her and half-smiles. "Thanks."

"It's okay. It was – actually, it was kind of sweet," she says, surprising herself, because she hadn't known until that very second that she thought it was anything other than annoying and insulting.

"Hey, a guy's got to look out for his campaign advisor, right?" Sheldon says, with awkward gallantry. There's a silence as he wipes the table down. "So," he asks, "How did it go?"

She blinks at him, puzzled, and he clarifies. "Your break-up video. I mean – that is" –

"Oh," she says. "Um. That…didn't really work out. So much."

"Oh." He finishes wiping the table.

"It's not a big deal, really," Emily says, watching her nails click on the table, because for some reason, she can't look at Sheldon.

"Yeah. I get it," he says as he moves away. Emily takes a deep breath, and tries to relax, because she never envisaged she'd be the one feeling awkward in this post-porn-star-apology scenario.

Sheldon's back a couple of minutes later though, with two scoops of mint ice-cream in a big cup, which he sets in front of her without a word. There's a triangular wafer pushed into the side of the top scoop.

Before she can acknowledge it, he's gone again. She stares at the ice-cream, and suddenly feels like the biggest jerk in the world.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)_

The next step in the Shlepper campaign involves 'Taking the Message to the Streets', which means waiting on street corners and trying to talk little old ladies into being filmed while Sheldon carries their bags. As far as Emily can tell, Sheldon's message involves a lot of broken eggs, and one assault by handbag.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, general weirdness (McDonald-Venturi section)_

Marti doesn't even look up from threading her beads. "Never go into business with an ex," she says, with a depth of world-weariness in her voice that makes Emily bite back a smile. Marti shakes her head sadly. "It's no wonder the lemonade stand went under."

"Dimi said the lemonade stand went under because you took most of the money," Emily says, playing devil's advocate. Sue her – she wants a bit of drama in her break-up stories.

"Well, yeah," Marti admits without shame, then explains, "I'm a _girl. _And girls are cuter than boys" –

"Give it a couple years," Emily mutters, as she goes for a close-up.

" – so _obviously _girls sell more lemonade than boys, so" –

"Girls get more money?"

She shrugs. "I don't make the rules."

"Uh-huh," Emily says, mouth twitching.

"I don't know how you do it," Marti says, as she deliberates between the bright pink beads and the neon green.

"How I do what?"

"You know. Work with" –

"Oh!" Emily says, in sudden comprehension. She puts down the camera. "Well…me and Sheldon – we broke up a long time ago, and we're friends now. We're friends. So it's completely fine."

Marti looks at her. "Okay," she says, then returns to knotting her string. "But I meant Derek." She leans over the table, and slips the necklace over Emily's head.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (retro insecurity – see Valentine's Day Dance)_

It rurns out that Derek's on Sheldon's mind too, because the next day he opens a conversation with an expectant, "So?"

Emily looks blankly at him.

"Did you have a chance to look through those papers I gave you yesterday?"

"Y-e-s," she says, suddenly deciding that stuffing the papers into a folder counts.

"And?"

"Yes?" she tries.

"Really?" Sheldon sounds disturbingly upbeat, so she hastily backtracks.

"I mean no!"

"Really?" This time he sounds hurt, so she sighs and says, "I'm not sure – maybe you should run…whatever it is…by me again."

He looks at her suspiciously. "You _are_ reviewing my paperwork, right?"

"Yes," she assures him. She pauses. "Unless there's anything good on TV." Sheldon doesn't need to know that 'anything good' encompasses commercials as well as the shopping channel.

He lets it go and produces a folded up piece of paper from his pocket. "Well I do happen to have a spare copy here…"

She unfolds the paper and scans it. She frowns. "What is this?"

"A contract stating that, as my campaign advisor, you agree to refrain from any workplace fraternization," Sheldon says casually. He indicates the bottom of the page. "You sign here."

She looks between Sheldon and the contract and laughs, taken aback. "Sheldon, I'm not signing this."

He stiffens. "Why not?"

"Because. It's – silly."

"No, it's not," he argues.

"Yes. It is," she says, finally pushing past him.

He follows her, protesting loudly, "Emily, Derek's a very attractive guy!"

Derek throws a disbelieving 'I don't even want to know' look at them from the counter, where he's drawing up the weekly roster, and as Marina passes them she mutters, "Ass-kisser."

Sheldon seems to realize that he and Emily are not the only ones in Smelly Nellys then – but this doesn't have the expected effect. Instead, he turns to the customers nearest and says, gesturing at Derek, "Aesthetically speaking. You can see it, right?"

Emily takes the opportunity to beeline for her regular booth, and after a short but animated discussion with the customers over Derek's best feature, Sheldon follows. "I just think we need to acknowledge" –

"What? That you think Derek has great bone structure?" she says, examining her menu.

" – acknowledge that the campaign needs to come first."

She looks up, because he's not dropping it. And even though it's completely ridiculous, and she shouldn't even dignify it with an answer, she finds herself saying, "Sheldon, believe me, nothing is going to happen between me and Derek."

"Then you should have no problem signing this," he says, brandishing the contract.

She holds his gaze for a moment, before she sighs in defeat. "Do you have a" –

She takes the pen Sheldon has seemingly pulled from thin air. "- pen?" she finishes, eyebrows climbing upwards. Sheldon helpfully points out where she's supposed to sign and she waits for a second, pen poised above the paper, until he finally asks, "What?"

"Nothing," she says. "Just…I guess this 'no fraternization' thing applies to you too."

Sheldon gets a strange look on his face, "I…guess."

"That's a shame," she says, as she scrawls her name at the bottom of the sheet.

"Oh?" he says in a strangled sounding voice. "Why?"

"I really thought you and Derek had something special," she says, as she hands the contract back to him.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: post break-up (Derek Venturi-Casey McDonald), life goes on_

There's an unpleasant incident where one of Derek's customers' exes takes the updated version of 'blame the messenger' when it comes to the less than flattering remarks about his personal hygiene.

Luckily, he doesn't take this to a physically violent conclusion, but it's a close shave. As it is, it takes an hour before she, Derek and Edwin can convince him to leave the living room. An hour during which he works up a sweat that proves to be completely aerosol-resistant.

They're spraying with abandon when Lizzie enters through the wide-open door, and coughs in a betrayed manner. "I'm sorry – are you under the impression that there's _too much_ ozone?"

Edwin explains the whole mess, and there's an expectant silence that should be filled with familial sympathy, or familial sarcasm. Lizzle offers neither. In fact, she heads upstairs without even glancing at Derek. Emily fights the urge to see how Derek takes it, and watches her aerosol spray mist the air instead.

But ten pine-and-sock scented minutes later, Lizzie thumps back down the stairs, brandishing a piece of paper in Derek's direction. He looks down at her hand warily.

"What's this?"

"Standard disclaimer," Lizzie says. "Stating that all opinions expressed are those of the interviewees and do not necessarily reflect those of the director slash editor."

She suddenly looks upwards, while her hand holds out the piece of paper. "Maybe if you get people to sign this, you might avoid at least _some_ of the crazy ex-boyfriends," she informs the ceiling.

Derek for some reason stares down and to the left as his hand reaches out and takes hold of the paper. "They can sign before the makeover," he tells the floor. "Great."

"Yeah, well…you know…" Lizzie says, with a small smile. Her eyes and Derek's meet for a second, before they quickly look in opposite directions again.

Edwin claps his hands. "Great! Now why don't we celebrate this historic and moving…" he wilts under the combined glaring power of Derek and Lizzie, "…and completely insignificant _non-moment_ with the purchase of a family pack of nose-plugs?"


	5. Chapter 5

NOTES: Ack! I thought for sure this would be the final part. But then there were imaginary cats and marriage proposals and suddenly this part was way longer than I planned. Also, possibly a little crazy - even for me. If so - apologies :)

DISCLAIMER: I think it's a safe bet that everyone knows by now that I don't own LWD.

* * *

FILE UNDER_: done. Finished. Over. The end. (...right?)_

"You know what I think?" Emily says suddenly.

Sheldon looks up from the schedule they're poring over, and says, "That I shouldn't do my own stunts?"

"No," she says. Then, "Well, yes." The suit of armor _is_ heavy – and with Sheldon's luck, he'll end up asking voters to sign his full body cast. "But actually, I was talking about the video."

"Too much?" he asks. "See, I was thinking – look at the Queen. She does one every year" – he stopped and considered this, "Actually, it's kind of the only thing she does every year – and everyone loves her."

"I meant _my_ video," she says faintly, because the thought of Sheldon attempting a British accent is…an arresting one.

"Oh," he says, going very still, and obviously waiting for more clarification.

Emily shakes her head briskly to rid it of fake-British-Sheldon, and returns to her original point. "I think I know why I couldn't go through with it."

"Okay," Sheldon says cautiously.

"It's because I'm already over Jarrod," she says.

He just looks at her.

"I mean, what would I even say to him?"

She forces herself to keep meeting Sheldon's unwavering gaze, which is harder than she would have thought. Honestly, she doesn't know why this bugs her so much, or why she's even sharing this with Sheldon.

"I shouldn't even _want _to say anything to him, right? So it's no wonder I…couldn't…" she trails off, before rallying. "I mean – you know when a relationship's just…done, right?"

"Yeah," Sheldon agrees, eyes still fixed on her. "I think you know when it's over."

* * *

She comes up with this break-up theory to explain to herself why she couldn't make a decent 'Don'tcha Wish Your Ex-Girlfriend was Hot Like Me' video. And honestly, except for the tiny niggle she feels when she remembers bursting into tears on Derek's bed, she really believes it.

Because…she's okay without Jarrod. She can tell herself that if he was the kind of guy to fall at the first hurdle of commitment, she's better off without him – and really mean it, without her heart traitorously sighing, 'if only…'

She doesn't think about him all the time. She isn't bravely holding things together – she's just…genuinely doing fine.

What she _doesn't_ understand is why she feels compelled to share her theory with Sheldon. She doesn't need to justify herself to him – it's not like she's advising other electoral candidates or something.

But every time she thinks of Sheldon depositing ice-cream in front of her without a word, she feels the same uncomfortable gut-twist.

So she tells him.

It's no big deal.

Well, until a few days later, when Sheldon clears his throat and says, "You know," with a careful casualness that sounds like a fire-alarm in her head.

"You know," he says again, "I'm thinking – staff appreciation dinner. Sheldon Shlepper: Employer of the Month. What do you say? You, me, good food…mood-lighting…it'll be great."

Her, Sheldon…_mood-lighting. _It sounds suspiciously like a date – and even though she and Jarrod are broken up and she's one hundred percent okay with that, the thought of an actual date with a person who isn't him…

This doesn't invalidate her break-up theory at all, by the way. It's just…a fear of getting back on the dating horse. Everyone says that the best way to conquer said fear is by bravely saddling up again. And normally Emily would be all over that…but in this particular case, she feels there's no shame in curling up in a corner for a while, because hey! That's a big horse!

A big horse with _Sheldon _on it, which just seems like a recipe for disaster, really.

Emily opens her mouth and prepares to execute a move known as 'The Casey' – a backtrack so sudden and spectacular, she's probably going to fall right on her butt.

But before she can blurt out an excuse that may or may not incorporate the words 'non-fraternization policy!' and the Casey-esque phrase 'summer of friendship!', Sheldon adds, "…and Derek. Obviously. It wouldn't be a staff appreciation dinner without Derek."

"Oh," she says, relieved. "In that case – great!"

* * *

FILE UNDER: _pros of being single, __weird fashion trends (retro: hot or not?)_

Even though staff appreciation night turns out to be weird (facing down Derek and Sheldon in the warm glow of candlelight, with _backing violins_, is flat-out _surreal),_ it's also kind of…nice. In a way.

And so staff appreciation night becomes movie night becomes – in one memorable case, and with the last minute addition of Edwin – mahjong night.

They take it in turns to suggest activities – Derek always suggests things that take them out of the house. Once or twice George says, "Hey, you know…I'm not trying to cramp your style or anything, but…you guys could hang out here. If you wanted."

He glances at Nora, who always agrees with a bright, professional smile, and says, "Sure," in a voice that's trying too hard to sound unstrained. She always looks pleasant but a little blank as she glances from Derek to Emily – like she's just been introduced to them, but can't quite remember who they are.

Maybe it would be better to stay, but somehow, Emily can't imagine all the deep Casey-wounds being healed by the light comic touch of Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson. Not with Derek radiating tension next to her, and Nora looking like she's one step away from making him a name badge. So she always ends up making their excuses and saying, "Maybe next time."

When it's her turn, Emily picks the same kind of thing – pizza nights, movie nights…normal stuff.

Sheldon on the other hand instigates things like jigsaw night (which ends with Dimi and Derek having a jigsaw piece war in her living room as she and Sheldon try to figure out whether they're assembling Neil Armstrong or the moon), and karaoke night (which finally ends with her clapping as Sheldon holds the last note, and Derek, face-down on the table, groaning, "Can we _go _now?")

None of it is stuff they've ever done before (in highschool, Sheldon would never have made it past the first date if he'd suggested candle-making), but every so often, she get a flash of…

…retro.

Not very often, though. After all, the dating-horse is still way too scary, and she's having a really good time on the less threatening pony-of-friendship.

* * *

FILE UNDER:_ being single forever (cross reference with Casey McDonald: Senior Year Singleness Pact), general weirdness (McDonald-Venturi section)_

"The pink ones are the best," Marti tells her confidentially, so Emily pays her dollar and picks a pink twisted-up fortune from the fishbowl.

She unfolds it and reads it. Then she frowns and reads it again.

"I think I need a refund," she says.

Marti clutches the fishbowl protectively to her chest. "You can't get a refund on your_ future_."

"Yes – but according to this," she waves the piece of paper, "I'm going to meet a tall dark handsome _strangler._"

"The workings of fate are mysterious," Marti says contemplatively, adjusting her turban.

Emily does what anyone would do in this situation. She pays Marti twenty dollars for ten minutes alone with the fishbowl.

So, when Derek exits the bathroom, freshly showered, ready and unwilling for beginners' scrapbooking night (in Sheldon's defence, the pictures of his campaign deserve to be preserved in the name of posterity), he finds her sitting outside Marti's bedroom door, surrounded by a pile of discarded fortunes.

He drips down on her. "What…are you doing?"

"Trying to find a good fortune," she says absently, flicking water off her hair. She grimaces and tosses a pale green piece of paper aside. "Because apparently, according to most of these," she reaches into the fishbowl and brandishes a handful of paper, "_Edwin _is my ultimate romantic destiny."

Derek looks at her like she's insane. "Yeah. You _do_ realize that Edwin actually wrote those. And that's not destiny…that's just – lame."

Emily ignores him and continues tossing fortunes.

"Crazy as it sounds," he says, still speaking to her like she's stupid, "I don't think any of these are blueprints for the future." He crouches down, and picks up some fortunes. "I mean, I just can't see myself writing THE feminist novel of the twenty-first century, I'm pretty sure I'm never going to find a real live mermaid, and…" he makes a repulsed face as he reads the last one, "Edwin is _definitely _not going to sweep me off my feet."

"Uh huh," Emily says, upturning the fishbowl so that the last few fortunes fall out.

Derek rolls his eyes and hands her two pieces of paper. "Here. Choose your own Edwin-free future."

Emily accepts them and reads:

_You will learn how to sail a boat and discover a brand new country._

Apparently geography is not Marti's best subject. She crumples it up and tosses it to the side. She turns her attention to the second fortune. It's a Lizzie one.

_You will live a fulfilling life, secure in the knowledge that you don't need a boyfriend to make you happy._

She makes a face. Lizzie's futures are like medicine, or vitamins – _good for you_. All she can focus on is that she doesn't even get a _pet _for company. Isn't there some kind of law – shouldn't she at least get a cat?

"Great," she says unenthusiastically. "So my choices are – a life of fulfilling loneliness, sea-sickness and scurvy…or _Edwin."_

"I think you're still not getting the 'not real' part of these," Derek says, sounding exasperated.

She opens her mouth to tell him _of course _she gets it – it's just that it would be _nice_ to imagine a future where she spends her days in her fabulous indoor pool with her latest toyboy, named Juan (or Marco, or Sergei – she's flexible about these things). But looking up at him, she knows that even if she explains it, he's still not going to understand.

She sighs and gets to her feet. Absently, she wonders whether Sheldon would get it. Almost as soon as she thinks it, the doorbell rings. There's a chance that he won't – because he's Sheldon, and he's not exactly a master of finesse_…_but there's also a small and terrifying chance that he will, because he's _Sheldon, _quite possibly the only guy in the world to suffer from Prom Fever.

But as she and Derek descend the stairs, she realizes that she doesn't want to share this with Sheldon. As a matter of fact –

"You know, I think I might skip scrapbooking tonight," she says, when Derek has opened the door to reveal Sheldon, arms full of supplies.

Derek looks supremely pissed off, and makes a threatening choking gesture with his hands in her direction, while Sheldon wilts. "Oh, why not?"

"Yeah, Emily – why not? You can't just abandon us without a good excuse," Derek says through gritted teeth. "A really, _really _good excuse."

The light catches the glitter-paper in Sheldon's arms, making it sparkle, but somehow, she finds the strength to say –

"It's girl stuff. You wouldn't understand."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _best friends (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (Derek Venturi). Top ten proposals (#2)_

She finds she can't even wait the non-distance between Derek's house and hers. So, even though she can still hear Sheldon and Derek arguing about a) why Derek doesn't have a scrapbook (Sheldon), and b) where Sheldon can stick said scrapbook (Derek) – she finds herself taking out her cellphone and dialing as she walks.

She really doesn't want to talk to Derek or Sheldon about this. Which just makes her aware of how much she _does _want to talk to –

"Casey?"

"Emily!" Casey sounds surprised. Actually, so is Emily. Even though her sudden need to talk to Casey had been so overwhelming she couldn't help trying to get through, she's a little taken aback to be…actually talking to Casey. She half-expected to be put straight through to voicemail.

Instead she gets real-Casey, sounding nervous and talking too fast. She closes her eyes for a second, because even though she's still a couple of steps away from her front door, she suddenly feels completely at home.

"-probably wondering why I didn't call," Casey says.

"It's okay," she says, as she opens the door and steps into her house. She heads for her room – she gets the feeling this could be an all-nighter.

"But I _do_ have an excuse" –

She cuts Casey off again, because they have more important things to talk about than unreturned messages.

"Seriously, Case, it's okay."

"Really?" she asks, in a small voice.

"Really," Emily says, before she gets down to business.

It takes a while, since Casey missed out on the Jarrod-drama, and she has to bring her up to speed without mentioning Derek – talking _around_ him, instead of _about_ him, which is kind of hard…

…but it's worth it in the end, because Casey Gets It.

"…you don't even get a cat?" she asks, sounding concerned.

"No," Emily says.

"That's just wrong," Casey says. "I mean, I don't even really like cats, but that doesn't mean I want to live alone without one."

"Yeah," Emily agrees. Animal companionship is at least _something. _

There's a pause.

"We could always share," Casey offers, thoughtfully. "That way, we both only have half a cat to look after."

She says it like it makes complete sense, like they're talking about teaming up for an English project, instead of joining forces to raise an imaginary cat. As a matter of fact, she says it with such conviction that Emily finds herself giving a kneejerk response of, "Sure."

Encouraged, Casey continues. "Of course, we'll probably have to draw up a schedule if we're going to have a timeshare cat," she muses.

Emily smiles, because Casey is maybe the only person in the world who feels the need to plan for a fictional future cat. Usually, she pulls Casey back from the brink of this kind of crazy by pointing out, well, how crazy it is. But…she kind of missed this, so instead, she finds herself playing along –

"Maybe we'll end up living really close to each other. That would take care of it."

"Emily – you're a genius!" Casey breathes.

"I…am?"

"Yes! We should live together!"

"We should?" She hadn't thought that was what she was suggesting.

"Yes! I mean – think about it – if we live together, we won't be alone – we _can't _be_, _because we'll have _each other_."

Lying flat on her bed, Emily frowns up at the ceiling. "That…kind of makes sense."

"It does! It's perfect! In fact – let's make it official!"

She struggles up onto her elbows because it sounds a little bit like…

"Waitaminute – are you…_proposing_ to me?"

"You know," Casey says in a wondering tone, "I think I kind of am." She clears her throat, then says, very seriously, "Emily Davis, will you be my platonic life-partner?"

Emily flops back down onto her bed and stares blankly upwards.

"Well, Em – whaddaya say?" Casey prompts.

"I don't know." She tries to deadpan, but she can hear the bemused smile creeping though, "This is just…so unexpected."

"Oh," Casey says. She sounds disappointed. "Well, obviously" –

Emily shakes her head – at herself mostly – amused. "Can we have an indoor pool?"

"Does that mean…?" Casey trails off.

She rolls her eyes. "I was kind of hoping I wouldn't have to say anything this weird, but…yes, Casey. I will be your platonic life-partner."

Casey makes an excited little noise down the phone.

"So, can we have an indoor pool?" she presses.

"Well, I guess that depends on our projected future earnings" –

"_Casey_."

"Yes – we can have a pool!" she says, pulling off a somewhat abrupt turnaround.

Emily stretches on the bed, satisfied. "Good," she says – and without thinking, "Hey – maybe Derek can be our poolboy," because she can't imagine a time when Derek isn't young and impossibly gorgeous and fun to watch.

She realizes as soon as the words come out of her mouth, and she scrambles to take them back. "Case – I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Casey says, but suddenly, all the ease of their conversation is gone.

Still, even if it is awkward, Emily finds herself thinking that maybe it's a good thing. She vented her ex-issues to Casey, now Casey can talk through her Derek-problems. She'll do the best-friend thing, and Casey will feel better. That's how these things go.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks.

The silence stretches on. And on.

"There's nothing to talk about," Casey says finally.

She lies on her bed, frozen for a second. It actually feels as if Casey has shut a door right in her face. No entry for best friends/platonic life partners.

"Yeah, okay Case. I get it," she says quietly, then hangs up.

* * *

  
_FILE UNDER: __Best friends (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (Derek Venturi). _

She thinks about making a surprise reappearance at scrapbooking-night, but she just can't motivate herself to move. She ends up just lying on her side in bed, feeling a horrible dry-eyed ache that she guesses comes from breaking up with your best friend/platonic life partner…until finally, she falls asleep.

The next morning, she wakes up groggy and heartsore, and still wearing yesterday's clothes.

When she switches on her cell phone, she has a message.

It starts with a deep, quivery-sounding breath, and then Casey is speaking in a low voice, almost whispering, "Emily? Em? I'm sorry, okay? I'm really sorry. I'm sorry and I suck and – it's not _you_, it's _me_" –

For a strange second, Emily wonders whether Casey feels that she has to formally dissolve their sort-of engagement. But then Casey's voice rushes onwards – sounding so miserable, all Emily can do is listen.

" – because I want to talk about it. I _want_ to talk to _you, _but it just – I try, and it keeps…getting stuck. And I _can't._ I just…I _can't._"

There's a pause . "Em – please don't be mad at me. Because…everyone is mad at me, and I just…don't think I can take you being mad at me too."

She trails off at this, and hangs up, and it's only then that Emily realizes she's gripping her cell-phone so tightly it hurts.

She checks her watch, and Casey's day has already begun. She's probably already started her first workshop. If Emily calls now, there's no chance Casey will be able to take her call.

She calls anyway, because she can't stand the idea of Casey thinking she's still mad at her, and if she leaves a message, at least Casey will know that Emily hasn't been mad at her since 9:17 am.

So after Casey's voice advises her to speak after the beep, she takes a deep breath and says, "Casey – hi. Um – it's me. I just wanted to – say that…we're okay. We're okay, so…don't worry about it, okay?" She searches for something that will unequivocally communicate how very-okay they are. "I'll call you later."

She frowns, because that isn't enough. Something is missing. If Casey were here, they could do the 'lets never fight again' best-friend-hug, but that's not an option here. Still, there has to be something…

She pauses for a second, debating whether or not to say the next sentence, because it feeds in to Casey's craziness, and generally, she's encouraging Casey to tone it down, not ramp it up. But the memory of Casey sounding so small and unsure pushes her over the edge.

"So, I was thinking. Mitzi. You know – for our cat."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _general weirdness (McDonald-Venturi section)_

To everyone's relief, and Edwin's monetary gain, Sheldon decides to go with a stunt double for the 'White Knight of the Students' Union' sketch.

Derek's setting up, and she and Marti are watching Edwin slowly stagger across the McDonald-Venturi lawn, sinking with each step, when her cell phone makes a noise.

She digs it out of her pocket and opens her latest text message from Casey. It says - _Vespertine?_

Emily sighs. Leave it to Casey to quibble about the name of their fictitious cat. That said, there's no way she's emptying the litterbox for a cat called _Vespertine_. However, after the brutal shooting down of Mitzi, Bird Feathers and Tallulah, Emily's running on empty in the naming stakes.

With a last frown at her cell phone, she turns to Derek, and says, "Hey, Derek…what would you call an imaginary cat?"

He stares at her. "I don't know," he says finally. "But I can tell you what I'd call _you_ for _having _an imaginary cat."

Marti's much more helpful. "Jasper," she says decisively, as she begins scrubbing Edwin with Vim Multi-Surface Cleaner.

Edwin says something, but it's inaudible through the helmet.

"And if it's a girl cat?" Emily asks.

Marti thinks about it. "Jasper."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepperness), weird fashion trends (retro: hot or not?)_

Early reaction to '_PANDEMONIUM! A Pan-Pipe Extravaganza_!' is ice-cold indifference, and they have yet to sell a single ticket – something that Sheldon thinks can be solved by " – positive association."

"Positive association," Emily repeats warily.

Sheldon nods as he wipes down a table. The customer at the booth opposite tries to attract his attention, but Sheldon holds up his index finger and continues talking to Emily.

"We just have to provide people with a positive association for the P-Pipes," he says.

"Like…" she presses.

"Like…oh! How about – buy a P-Pipe ticket, get a twenty-five percent discount on a deep-pan pizza." Sheldon holds out his arms as if inviting praise and accolades.

Emily has to admit, it's a pretty good idea.

She smiles at him and he smiles back, and as the moment stretches out like chewing gum, her mouth takes it upon itself to say, "Sheldon – if you had a cat – what would you call it?"

Sheldon isn't even thrown by this line of unreasoning. "Rover," he says, without a second thought.

"Rover?"

"It's what I'm going to call my future cat," he explains.

Emily blinks.

"Yeah," he says, hands clasping his dishrag. He gazes at her, a faraway look in his eyes. "I mean, house by the sea – but not too far away from the city, three kids – Shane, Shelby and Shaeleen, a cat called Rover…it's the Canadian dream, right?"

All Emily can do is stare, because somehow, Sheldon has managed to _out-Casey _Casey.

"So – how does it sound? To you?" he asks, offhandedly, scratching the back of his neck.

She struggles to find words, because Sheldon sounds so intent. "Um…good. A little salty for my taste, but if it makes you happy…"

"I mean – I'm not totally committed to that future…" he says hurriedly. "It's just one suggestion. I'm open to negotiation" –

Emily half-tunes him out as she wonders how Casey's going to take the news that Sheldon's got a leg-up on her in the fictional property market. "Shaeleen is a pretty name though," she says, almost to herself.

Sheldon stops dead in the middle of a sentence. "You uh, you think so?" he asks. The corners of his mouth tug upwards slightly, and it's just possible that they might get stuck in another chewing gum moment –

When the customer at the booth opposite snaps his fingers impatiently, muttering loudly about appalling standards of service.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _messy break ups,_ _bes__t friends/platonic life partners (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (yeah. That one)._

"It sounds kind of…fun," Casey says, later that night.

Emily considers this. "Well – we only got a couple of shots of Edwin because it turns out he's allergic to the armor polish…and we still haven't sold any tickets to Sheldon's pan-pipe thing…but – yeah. It kind of is." She stops.

"I guess I'll see the video. When it's finished." Casey's voice sounds very far away.

"I'll save you a copy," Emily promises. "Something this crazy _has_ to be shared."

Casey makes a noise of agreement, then launches into a story of her own disastrous day, ending with, " – so then, I tripped over the tablecloth and fell into the instruments."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. And to top it all off, Lysander starts yelling at me for falling on his trombone." Casey stops and sighs. "I bet _everyone _would love to have some footage of _that_. That is, if – if…_everyone _didn't hate my guts…"

Casey doesn't even do real-casual well, so it's no wonder fake-casual causes her to trail off completely, with a painful sounding little laugh.

Emily could give hour-long lectures proving just how wrong Casey is. But in the end, she just says, simply, "_Everyone_ doesn't hate you, Casey," and tries to put the conviction of a summer's-worth of evidence behind the words.

There's a silence before Casey changes the subject, and says, too brightly, "If we have an indoor pool, that leaves more space for outdoor features. How do you feel about a gazebo?"


	6. Chapter 6

NOTES: Truly, I cannot estimate story-length for toffee. Sorry!

DISCLAIMER: If I said I owned LWD, you wouldn't believe me. And you'd be right, too!

* * *

FILE UNDER:_ messy break-up__s, awkward moments_

It all begins when Marina storms into Smelly Nelly's, fifteen minutes late, stomps over to Sheldon and warns, "Not a word, Shlepper, because I am _not_ in the mood."

Sheldon blinks at her.

"As a matter of fact, I'm not in the mood for a lot of things right now, so why don't we try to work out an agreement? How about…for everything _you_ break today– I get to break something of yours?"

She gets right into his face at this, poking her finger at his chest. Sheldon bends backwards in an attempt to avoid her, which would probably be a smart move if there weren't people sitting at the table right behind him – or, more importantly, if Sheldon hadn't just deposited a slice of chocolate-chip cheesecake onto said table mere moments before.

Emily winces, and the woman in the booth holds up a hand, but it's too late, and Sheldon ends up frosting himself.

Still wearing a fierce expression, Marina whirls away – only to bump into a teenager carrying a milkshake. The fierce expression wavers as she stares down at her now stained t-shirt.

"Great," she says, voice wobbling. "Just – great."

"I get a free refill, right?" the guy asks, examining the remains of his milkshake anxiously.

Marina makes a choked sound and dashes for the toilets.

"You got _buttcake_," the little girl in the booth gleefully informs the boy opposite. "You have to eat chocolate-chip-_buttcake._"

The boy scrunches up his face in consternation, but just as he's opening his mouth to mount a voluble protest, Emily steps in.

"Sheldon will be happy to get you a new slice of cheesecake," she hastily says to the boy in the booth, before turning to the milkshake-spiller and continuing, "And he'll get you a refill, too."

She grabs his arm and pulls him away. "While you do that, I'll take care of Marina," she says, and pushes him kitchenwards.

It's not that she knows all that much about Marina. Her mental notes go something like: 1) works in Smelly Nelly's, 2) hates Sheldon, 3) phenomenal table-busser, 4) sings along to power ballads during cleanup, 5) _really _not a Sheldon fan.

But, thanks to the time she's spent as a video makeover artist this summer, she really doesn't _need _to know all the details. She can look at any girl and tell instantly what break-up stage she's at. And unless her intuition has totally failed her, Marina is a complete newcomer to the town of Dumpsville.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks the stall door, sympathetically.

There's a long sniff, and suddenly, Marina appears, wiping her nose on a piece of tissue. "No," she says. "I'm okay now."

She throws the tissue into the trash, then pumps handsoap from the dispenser onto her palm, and Emily notes how steady her hands are.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"Yeah," she says, working up a lather with quick efficient movements, before rinsing and roughly drying her hands, and grimacing at her red-eyed reflection in the mirror. "Momentary lapse. It won't happen again, so don't worry about it."

Emily trails her out, and watches as she briskly sails past a just-deserted table, managing to catch her hip on a precariously balanced plate and sending it crashing onto the floor. She stares at the smashed pieces for a second before dashing for the kitchen.

Emily and Sheldon stare at each other for a moment, before Sheldon snaps into action. He waves his hand at the broken plate, and says, "Emily, can you…?" before squaring his shoulders and following Marina into the kitchen.

"…Sure," Emily says, blinking at the empty space Sheldon had occupied moments before. "No problem."

After she's located the dustpan and brush, and swept up the broken plate pieces, there's still no sign of Sheldon or Marina. Given Marina's general antipathy towards all things Shlepper, coupled with her current overly-emotional state, Emily feels it's only natural to worry for Sheldon's safety.

But when she bursts into the kitchen, Sheldon is still in one Shlepper-shaped piece. He's standing in front of Marina, who's got an arm folded protectively across her stomach as she says, " – not even that big a deal, really. I mean, three years, but…" She blinks hard and bites her lip, before bursting out with, "It's just, y'know, did he have to decide we were 'going in two different directions' on the night of our anniversary? Couldn't he have waited a day or two? _Jerk_."

She shakes her head. "I dip-dyed my freaking shoes because I couldn't get a pair that matched my dress." She stares at Sheldon, then sighs, "Not that anyone would get what a big deal that is" –

"Hey, I get it," Sheldon assures her. "I mean, you're talking about custom shades, light gradation, and of course, the risk of bleeding or staining." He clears his throat at Marina's look. "Sheldon Shlepper: A Candidate to Dye for…it's a long story."

The surprising thing isn't that Marina flings herself at Sheldon – it's that she does so _without_ the intention of inflicting bodily harm on him. Instead, she throws her arms around his neck and begins sobbing into his chest.

Emily and Pablo, the chef, watch silently for a second. "You know, I really wasn't expecting this," Pablo says finally, echoing Emily's thoughts perfectly, as she observes a milkshake-spattered Marina cling to a cheesecake-covered Sheldon.

Pablo shakes his head, then deposits a plate of bacon and sweetcorn fritters onto the counter, and calls, "Order up!"

Marina doesn't react, but after an abortive attempt to disengage, Sheldon makes eye-contact with Emily. "Hey, Em – can you get that?" he asks, gesturing to the counter.

She looks at him, taken aback. She doesn't mind helping out, but it'd be nice to be _asked. _"Aren't you forgetting something?" she hints, because there's no way Sheldon's drafting her _again, _without a hearty helping of _please _and puppy-dog-eyes.

It's not that she's not sympathetic to the plight of the dumped – hey, it's not _Marina _who's asking her for the favor.

Sheldon stares at her, immediately contrite. "Of course. I'm sorry." Emily relaxes and waits for waits for an overblown offer of payment in hugs or de-stressing executive massages (Sheldon has coupons), or something.

Instead, she gets, "The order's for table five." With that, Sheldon returns to the suddenly all-important business of letting a girl who hates his guts cry all over his shoulder.

Emily gapes at him in disbelief – an action cut short when Pablo picks the plate off the counter and pushes it into her hands. "Something you need to learn about working here – when I say 'Order up,' it means that the food's good to go. So maybe you could…go?"

He makes a sweeping wave towards the kitchen door.

Emily goes.

Fifteen minutes later, as she's mopping up a coffee spillage, Sheldon carefully ushers Marina out of the kitchen, like a baby chick. As she passes Emily, she manages to smile, and say, "Hey, thanks," in a very sincere voice.

"You're welcome," Emily says, as she straightens up, ready to go back to life on the other side of the service industry.

But Marina keeps walking, past Emily and right out the door. Emily stares after her for a moment before turning back to Sheldon. "Where's she going?" she asks.

"Oh, I said you'd cover for her, and told her to go home."

"You did," Emily says calmly. "Without even asking me?"

Sheldon blinks at her. "Well, I guess I thought you'd offer to do it. To be honest, Emily, I'm a little surprised that you didn't."

She stares at him, fingers twitching, amazed anew that Sheldon has made it this far in life without someone mauling him. It's almost enough to restore her faith in humanity.

"Remind me why I would make that offer, again?" she asks, with only a hint of clenched teeth.

Sheldon raises his eyebrows meaningfully at her, before prompting, "A little thing called 'sisterhood'?"

* * *

FILE UNDER: s_isterhood (metaphorical), post break-up tips and hints (cosmetics section)_

It turns out she isn't the only one less than pleased with Sheldon Shlepper: Feminist.

"Who died and made you Derek Venturi?" Derek asks when he appears for his shift.

Sheldon defends his actions. "Hey, she was upset and" –

"And next time, you tell her to 'serve _through _the pain,'" Derek says. "What if she doesn't turn up for her next shift?"

Sheldon begins, "Emily could" –

"Emily's holding a knife," Emily reminds him, as she cuts a slice of apple pie. "Emily _could_ do a_ lot _of things right now."

But Marina _does_ show, on time and full of thanks for Emily for covering for her. "It was a one off, I swear," she says, and assures her, "It won't happen again."

Emily smiles and nods, and digs her list of top ten waterproof mascaras out of her purse.

Because contrary to Sheldon's opinion, she _gets _this 'sisterhood' thing.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _post break-up (Marina Campbell and Timothy Spaulding), life goes on (extremely quickly)_

Things are a little different after that. After all, it would be pretty hard for Marina to keep up the Sheldon-hatred after she sobbed on his shoulder and they exchanged stories about their bad dye jobs.

So Emily isn't surprised that there's a shift in the workplace atmosphere. Marina starts smiling awkwardly at Sheldon, and she doesn't push past him with a roll of her eyes when he's in her way. She even covers for him when a customer complains that he's been waiting on his ham-salad sandwich for a half an hour.

"Our chef is kind of…temperamental," she says. "The first one he made wasn't up to his standard, so he threw it away and started again."

The customer doesn't look impressed, but Marina smiles winsomely, and says, "Please – just give him five more minutes?"

The guy subsides.

Marina dusts her hands off showily, and says to Sheldon, "Why don't _I_ sort out his order for you?"

"Really?" Sheldon says, sounding surprised at the complete lack of chewing-out in this scenario.

"I got your back," she says, with a friendly nudge to his side.

The simplest, most logical explanation is that she's just showing her gratitude, repaying a favor.

But as she turns towards the kitchen for the ham-salad sandwich, Emily notices that Marina's wearing a tiny daisy hairclip at the back of her hair.

* * *

"And when you factor in the pan-pipers' parents and families, it all adds up to…" she scribbles down some figures on a napkin and says, "…not even close to enough."

Sheldon frowns. "More flyers?" he suggests.

Emily opens her mouth to suggest that 'more flyers' aren't going to change the fact that they're advertising a _pan-pipe_ concert – when Marina says, suddenly -

"Hey, I could maybe get you a deal on flyers. I know a guy who works in the Printworks downtown – I can see if he can get you a discount."

"Really?" Sheldon asks her, before turning to Emily. "That's great! Right, Emily?"

"Great," she echoes, because even though she hadn't wanted more flyers even before Marina's offer, for some reason, she feels like she can't voice her objection now.

Marina smiles, and Emily notices that she's got a small sunflower clip perched jauntily above her ear.

* * *

"You could stick one up on one of the rear side windows of the Prince," Emily tries, holding out a flyer to Derek.

"'_Pandemonium!'_" he reads flatly, "'_A Pandemic that's Sweeping the Nation! A Panacea for your Problems! For One Night Only, it's PANARCHY!'_" He stares at her.

"Or maybe not," Emily allows.

"This is the best we've got?" Derek asks, staring at the picture of the P-Pipes on the flyer, fluting for all they're worth, and looking like massive dorks.

"We're offering a discount to Smelly Nelly's customers," she says.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to work unless we" – Derek begins, but Emily tunes him out as Marina walks past. Today it's little purple pansies carefully arranged around the bun at the back of her head.

Emily twists around to watch as Marina disappears into the kitchen, then she turns back to Derek. "Have you noticed anything different about Marina?" she can't help asking. "Her hair, for example?"

Derek looks at her. "Okay. We're done here."

* * *

  
_FILE UNDER: __best friends/platonic life partners (Casey McDonald), ongoing issues (retro: brief craze or long term trend?)_

For some reason, she doesn't mention it to Casey for a couple of days. Because she knows that Casey _will get it__._ And if Casey _gets it, _it will be harder for Emily to _avoid it. _So for a while, she keeps to general campaign stuff and general weird Sheldon stuff. But it's _Casey_, her best friend and now platonic life partner. Inevitably, she caves.

" – so now, there's way less tension," Emily finishes. "Which is good."

"Sounds good," Casey agrees. "And I mean, since…_everyone_…is working there, that's probably - really good."

Emily doesn't really get how Derek fits in with that at all – but then, according to Casey's code, he is _everyone, _so maybe she shouldn't be surprised. In the end, she just repeats, "Yeah, it's good."

Casey is silent for a moment. Then she asks, "Do I hear an 'except' coming?"

"No," Emily says. "No 'except.'" She bites her lip. "Except…"

Casey makes a muffled triumphant noise.

" – she's started doing her hair differently."

"Differently – how?" Casey asks.

Emily shuts her eyes. "Hair flowers," she says. "New ones every day."

She can hear Casey suck in a breath, before asking, in a hushed voice, "Are you okay?"

Immediately, she tries to downplay it. "Yeah. No. I'm fine. I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

She realizes her mistake a couple of seconds later, when Casey says, thoughtfully, "Well, maybe because" –

She interrupts quickly. "Rhetorical, Case. Rhetorical."

* * *

  
_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and awkward moments _

"So," Marina says, sliding into Emily's booth. She drums her fingers on the table, then sighs and frowns. "Okay, I kind of suck at this, so I'm just going to ask, okay?"

"Okay," Emily repeats doubtfully.

"You and Shlep – Sheldon. Is there a thing?" She rushes on, "I mean, sometimes it kind of seems like there's a vibe, and I should probably already know, I know, but I don't. I really don't, so I hope you're not offended, but…is there a thing?"

"What? No," Emily says. She takes out a sugar sachet from the little bowl on the table, and plays with it. "There's no thing. Nothing. No vibe."

"Great," Marina says, "So if I" –

"I mean, we _used_ to go out, so maybe there's an _ex-_vibe or something…but no. We don't have a thing." She concentrates on turning the sugar sachet between her fingers.

"Great," Marina says again. "So it'd be cool with you if I asked him out?"

"You…and Sheldon? Oh." Her voice does a thing where it goes all high-pitched. Emily clears her throat and manages, "Yeah, that's – that would be fine. With me." She looks at Marina and stretches her mouth into something that doesn't feel like a smile.

"Okay – good!" Marina says. She takes a deep breath, palms flat on the table, before pushing herself to her feet. "Hey, Shlep – Sheldon! Can you come here for a minute?" she calls, then turns to Emily and half-whispers, "Wish me luck – I haven't done this in a while."

"Now?" Emily says, stomach giving a little jump of panic as Sheldon makes his way over to the table. "You're doing this right now?"

She scoots to the edge of the seat, ready to make her retreat, but then Sheldon is there, standing in front of her and blocking her exit. She'd scoot the other way, but Marina's obstructing that side.

"Hey," Marina says.

"Hey," Sheldon repeats obligingly.

For a wild moment, Emily considers ducking under the table and crawling her way out of this situation, but a sick need-to-know keeps her rooted to the booth.

"So," Marina clears her throat. "My aunt does these classes. Dance. Salsa. And she's holding this open evening tomorrow night, so I thought maybe…I'm going, so if you wanted…"

"Oh," Sheldon says. "That sounds great." He stops, and clarifies, "That was an invitation, right?"

Marina smiles. "Yeah, it was an invitation."

"Great," Sheldon says again, and Emily's fighting the sudden urge to make a face, when Sheldon says, "What do you think, Emily?"

She stares at him. "Think?"

"Yeah – how does salsa sound to you? I mean, I know we already have plans, but really, we can have Nanaimo Bar Night anytime, right?"

"Um," Emily says.

"You know what – I should ask Derek," Sheldon decides. He turns back to Marina and explains, "I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, but he's not exactly open to new experiences."

"Let me get this clear…you expect Emily and Derek to come too?" Marina asks, sounding confused.

He looks at her. "Of course," he says, like it's completely obvious. "Why wouldn't they?"

"Wow," Marina says, and blinks, a completely Sheldon-shocked look on her face. She shakes her head briskly though, and rallies. "Great," she says, and smiles a strained smile.

* * *

_FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (number of left feet: two). Weird fashion trends__ (retro: nostalgia-based or result of genuine affection?)_

It's a little awkward afterwards. Emily offers to clear up the confusion, but Marina says, "Really, it's fine." And, "It's no big deal." And even, "The more, the merrier."

So, they end up doing a group salsa thing.

It's strange, because even though the evening starts with Marina facing Sheldon, and Emily facing Derek across a gender-divided line as they learn the basic steps, it somehow ends with Sheldon reaching for Emily's hand, and Derek shrugging in Marina's direction when it's time to partner up.

"You'll thank me later," Derek promises, while Marina looks down at the ground and fiddles with the enormous red poppy in her hair.

"I guess we can always swap in a while," she says finally, reluctantly.

Derek darts a disbelieving glance at Sheldon, and Emily thinks maybe she's not the only one having trouble with the idea of Sheldon Shlepper: Ladykiller.

Sheldon steps on her feet often enough that Emily feels virtuous, and like she's done Marina a favor, even though she only _mostly_ went along with the partner-pair-up because of Sheldon's lack of skill.

But, hey, she's kind of busy trying to _avoid _that whole awkward truth – the same way Sheldon's awkwardly trying to avoid doing the basic salsa steps on her toes. She thinks she's doing the better job.

They both spend a lot of time looking down, until Marina's aunt makes her way over and insists that they stop looking at their feet. Which Emily thinks is easy for her to say, since she's not in danger of shish-kabobed toes. But, strangely, with Marina's aunt counting out the beats, they gingerly get some kind of harmony going. Even stranger, when Marina's aunt wanders off in search of other couples to coach, they manage to keep it going without looking down.

They keep looking straight at each other, while below, their feet contrive to move separately, but together. Emily's afraid to speak, because it might break what feels like magic, so she lets her smile speak for her instead. Sheldon smiles back, and –

"Hey, Sheldon! Looks like you finally discovered some rhythm," Marina calls. "Nice going!"

- and the spell is broken when Sheldon stumbles and his right foot comes down hard on Emily's left.

They never do end up changing partners, though.

* * *

FILE UNDER_: weird fashion trends (retro-appreciation club), cons of being single_

"He's not even my type," Marina says, frowning over Emily's shoulder at Sheldon, who's behind the counter. "Usually, I'm all about the cool guy, not the…I don't even know what Sheldon is." She sighs. "And I never do this, either. I mean – if a guy isn't interested, then, you know – whatever. I find another guy. Not to brag or anything, but I'm a champion rebounder."

Emily silently agrees, since after one bad day, Marina bounced right over three years of serious commitment like she was made of rubber.

"But now, I'm – wow, I'm _pining_." Marina looks almost offended as she stares at Sheldon. "How stupid is that?"

Emily glances over her shoulder. Sheldon's explaining something to Derek, gesturing at a piece of paper on the counter every so often. "It's not stupid," she says, turning back to Marina. "Sheldon's…a really great guy."

"Yeah, a really great guy who brings his friends on dates to avoid being alone with me." Her eyes drift to Sheldon again, and she shakes her head sharply.

Emily watches her for a minute, with a feeling like something heavy is pressing on her chest. Marina _likes_ Sheldon. And, even if Emily _has_ had a couple of retro moments lately, it's still not fair of her to torpedo someone who totally digs the look. Especially when Emily doesn't know if it's a fashion statement she can commit to, long-term.

Retro deserves better than that.

So she takes a deep breath. "What you should know about Sheldon," she says slowly, "is that he's…kind of oblivious, sometimes." She shrugs at Marina, and smiles wryly. "Sometimes you just…have to make it really obvious."

Marina considers this for a moment. She bites her lip, then nods, and with sudden, and familiar determination, she places her palms flat on the table and pushes herself to her feet.

"Oh. Right now?" Emily can't stop herself from saying.

Marina ignores her. "Shlepper!"

Sheldon and Derek look over.

She places her hands on her hips. "So, Sheldon – I was wondering…do you always bring an entourage on dates?"

Sheldon doesn't seem at all thrown by the question. He fields it like a born politician. "Oh no, on dates I tend to take a more…personal approach. I find that girls prefer" –

"Great!" Marina interrupts. "Then you should pick me up at seven on Thursday." Without waiting for a response, she pivots and marches towards the kitchen. But before she disappears inside, she turns and gives Emily a thumbs-up.

Sheldon may not have been thrown by the question, but he's definitely thrown by Marina's response. He opens and closes his mouth for a moment, then looks at Derek for guidance (he gets a shrug), before wandering over to Emily.

"What just happened?" he asks, sounding completely confused.

Careful to sound amused, Emily says, "I think you just got yourself a date."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (three guesses!). T__op ten most unromantic moments ever (#1)_

Later that evening, she and Derek don't talk about it. They just set up as normal for the break-up videos – which Emily finds provides a welcome distraction from not-thinking about Sheldon's impending date. That is, until their last client of the day shows up.

Her name is Blythe, and she totters in the door in shoes she 'borrowed' from her sister. "She's going to kill me when she sees the scuff marks," she tells Emily. She wears a jean skirt with a flounce at the end. It's so short that sitting is almost an indecent act.

She politely turns down Emily's offer of a makeover. "I think I'm good," she says. "I spent the last two hours straightening my hair," she touches the fine blonde strands self-consciously and says, "I just really want to do this."

When Derek gives her the signal, she launches into a peppy, obviously pre-prepared speech about how she's _happy _for her ex-boyfriend, and just wants to wish him and her ex-best friend all the luck in the world.

"I mean, with your track records, you guys are going to need it!" she says, with a bright little laugh.

She doesn't dwell on said track records, but every so often, her congratulatory monologue whip-flicks to her ex-boyfriend's cheapskate tendencies, or her ex-best friend's habit of flirting with anything that has a y chromosome. It's skillfully done, and Emily almost feels like applauding when it's over.

"Was it okay?" she asks anxiously, afterwards. "Because I rehearsed it all night."

"I could tell," Emily says. "It was really professional."

"Video of the day," Derek says.

There are smiles all around, and so far, so successful break-up video. What happens next though is completely out of left field, because Edwin clomps in from the kitchen (where he's been waiting on reshoots, standing in front of the fan Emily propped on the table to ensure that he doesn't overheat).

"Are you guys ready yet –" he says, before he stops dead. Blythe stares at him. Understandably, since stopping dead has a really dramatic impact when performed in medieval armor.

"Well, hello there," he says, and goes to put his hand on his hip. Emily thinks he's aiming for suave, but the suit of armor isn't really all that flexible, and the molding at the shoulder and elbow means that Edwin's arm just ends up jutting awkwardly, like a broken puppet. Edwin hastily (well, as hastily as one can when dressed in metal) retracts his arm. "I'm Edwin. And – you would be…?"

"I'm Blythe. Hi," she says, tucking a strand of flat hair behind her ear.

"You must be waiting for a friend," Edwin says decisively.

Blythe looks confused. Well, more confused. "What? Why?"

"Well, there's no way you're here to avail of my brother's services," he says. "I mean," he gestures creakily at her, "there's no way any guy in his right mind would break-up with _you_."

Blythe blushes, and all Emily can do is stare at the spectacle of Edwin Venturi, dressed quite literally to kill, and yet somehow _working it_.

"Oh, well, it was…kind of a mutual decision," Blythe retcons, eyes glued to Edwin. "We both wanted to see other people."

"Really?"

"Really," she confirms.

Edwin runs a gauntlet through sweat-matted hair, and says, "Hey – this is maybe a weird question, but chivalry kind of goes with the suit. Can I walk you out?"

"Okay," Blythe agrees quickly. Not that Emily blames her. It's not like a literal knight in shining armor appears after every crappy break-up.

The walk to the door is a slow, clanking process that ends with an exchange of phone numbers and a confirmed movie-date. After Edwin finally closes the door, he revolves ponderously to face Emily and Derek, and says, reverently, "I am _never _taking this off ever again." Then, as a look of intense concentration comes over his face, "Actually, I'm going to go to the bathroom first…and _then_ I'm never taking it off again."

He clomps his way upstairs, while Derek flops heavily onto the couch and sprawls, frowning.

"So, looks like the Venturi-charm is genetic," Emily says brightly. "I mean, he didn't even pause – just worked the weird to his advantage. You taught him well."

Derek just looks at her.

"And now, he has a date," she continues, smiling widely. "Which is really…it's kind of…I mean, that just…"

"Sucks," Derek finishes succinctly.

"Yeah. Pretty much," she sighs, all the pretence draining out of her. She slumps on the couch next to Derek.

They sit in silence for a few moments.

"I thought we were in the _break-up_ business," Emily says finally. "So what's with all this coupling-up?"

That really wasn't in the job description – actually, it's kind of counter to the entire spirit of their organization. She lets her head drop back onto the couch.

"Yeah," Derek agrees. He taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch, thoughtfully.

The silence creeps back, but this time, it's Derek who breaks it. "But. Did you ever think that maybe…we should? You know, try it."

"You mean…" She turns her head to look at him, because there's no way he means what she thinks he means. Except he's looking back at her like maybe he does, so she has to finish the sentence, "…be a couple?"

He shrugs. "Why not? I mean, when Ed and Sheldon are jumping on the bandwagon…" he trails off meaningfully. "And, you know, if we _did_…we've got the edge on them."

"We…do?"

"Sure," Derek says firmly. "I mean, think about it – no drama, no together-forever, 'this-has-to-work-out-if-it's-true-love' crap, because…we both know the score."

"Do we?" she asks, watching him intently.

Derek looks away from her. "_I_ do."

She thinks about it for a minute. Really thinks about it, even though it's maybe the least romantic offer ever. It's _Derek, _so how can she not? In highschool, she'd made a hobby out of crushing on him (she's pretty sure there's a section in one of her files detailing and rating his _haircuts_ in terms of cuteness, versatility, and just how ruffle-able they looked).

Coupling up with Derek would be fun, and easy…and, most of all – _safe_.

Because it wouldn't be a real relationship.

Emily's a little surprised to realize that even though she's probably not ready for a real relationship yet, she's given up pretending that that's not what she wants, eventually.

"I don't think I do," she decides suddenly. She looks at Derek and clarifies, "Know the score, I mean." She finds herself hoping, for Derek's sake, that he doesn't know the score either.

Since she's turned down Derek's offer to skip cynically into the sunset, she expects the awkwardness that descends.

Derek clears his throat and says, "I just…" before he trails off, and stares down at his hands.

But even though she has a cast-iron, embarrassment-minimizing excuse for not coupling up with Derek, she somehow gets the feeling that now is probably not a good time to tell him she's sort of engaged to his stepsister/ex-girlfriend.

Then something strange happens. For a second, while she's looking at him, she doesn't see Derek Venturi the way she usually does – bathed in the forgiving light of residual highschool crush. Instead she sees the kid who used to spit for distance through the gap where his front teeth fell out. She half-smiles, and suddenly, it's not all that awkward anymore.

"You got sucked in by the retro," Emily finishes understandingly. "It's okay. It happens." She should know – since she's currently experiencing a Sheldon-revival of embarrassing, leopard-print proportions.

Derek shrugs, in trademark 'downplay the moving moment' style, and says, "Hey, you were always kinda cool."

She doesn't say 'Apology accepted', or even, 'I won't tell Casey,' even though they're the things she really wants to say. Instead, she gets to her feet and says, "Since we're Sheldon-free this evening, how about, after the reshoots, we make some popcorn and rent _Blood Bath IV_?"

She holds out her hand, and after a moment, Derek reaches out and lets her pull him to his feet.


	7. Chapter 7

NOTES: FILE UNDER: tl;dr, but thanks very much to everyone who reviewed :)

DISCLAIMER: I didn't own anything LWD in the last chapter, and (not really a) surprise! I still don't own anything LWD now :)

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)_

Sincerely, Sheldon says, "It's not Marina. Marina's…great." As if he can't help himself, he adds, "And scary."

Emily waits.

"It's just, it's not as simple as 'girl asks guy out'. I have some very specific criteria."

"She's a cute girl who wants to date you," Emily points out, holding up one finger at the word 'cute,' and another at 'wants to date you.'

"Okay, yes, so she does _technically_ fulfill all my criteria," Sheldon admits, "but as an electoral candidate, I've got to ask – is Marina a smooth fit with my public image?"

"Sheldon," Emily says, kind of tired, because she's trying to do a nice thing here. He gave her ice-cream and a shoulder to cry on, and in return, she's pushing down the mean part of her that would prefer it if said shoulder remain single, and giving him a date who can dive head-first into coupledom without a qualm. "There's a cute girl who really likes you. What's the problem?"

He looks at her for a really long moment. "I guess there isn't one," he says eventually.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (feelings? What are they?)_

There doesn't seem to be much fallout from the Derek Venturi 'you're not the girl I want, but you'll do' pass. Actually, it's almost insulting how little her refusal seems to affect Derek. Clearly, the offer was made based entirely on one moment of retro-based nostalgia.

So when Emily suggests, "We should talk," it's not so much about Derek's relationship-offer as it is about the circumstances behind it. Which is probably why Derek's response is –

"No. We _could _talk – but we're not going to."

"I just think we need to" – Emily tries.

"See, I don't know if you've noticed…" Derek continues, "but Casey – or as I like to call her, the Queen of Oversharing – is not here. So nobody _needs_ to talk."

"No, I noticed," Emily says quietly, then remarks, "I mean, that's the reason you're so…happy now, right?"

Derek doesn't answer.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _best friends/platonic life partners (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (rhymes with Merek Tenturi)_

"I don't know," she says, before hazarding, "Carnations, maybe?"

She hears pages flipping on the other end of the line.

"Carnations," Casey recites, "stand for _betrothal, love _and_ fertility._" She stops. "She's really upping the stakes, Em."

"I don't think that's how it works, Casey," Emily says. For some reason, she can't see Marina selecting her hair accessories based on _The Language of Flowers: A Beginner's Guide. _"I think she just thinks they look cute."

"That _would_ explain why she's sending such mixed messages," Casey concedes.

"Anyway, she's not upping the stakes, because the last time I checked? There were no stakes," Emily clarifies. Weirdly, even though it's the truth, it feels like a lie.

Maybe it sounds like one too, because Casey just makes a non-committal noise in response. She doesn't air her doubts any further than that, and they lapse into silence.

Until…

"Case," Emily says suddenly, surprising herself, "When are you coming home?"

"What?" is the rattled response.

"When are you coming home?" she repeats. "You _are_ coming home, right?"

"Of course!" Casey says.

"When?"

"Well, I – it's…I mean, I still have a couple of weeks to go here. I couldn't just…pull out, or anything. That would be irresponsible."

Emily frowns. "I guess. Of course," she devil's-advocates, "since you hate everyone there, and they hate you, you might say that you don't really owe them anything..."

"Yeah, but…you know me. I always finish what I start."

She wants to say, 'Then maybe you should come home and finish _this_,' because when she thinks about the Casey/Derek mess, 'finished' is the last word that comes to mind.

In the end, she doesn't say it though, because even though some of her believes it would be kinder if someone finally struck the finishing blow, the rest of her thinks that might make things even worse.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _life goes on, ongoing issues (sudden card-carrying membership of Shlepper fan-club)_

Marina wants to leave early, because she's got a hair appointment. Whatever reservations Emily has about this thing, she's got to admit, Marina's going all out for this date. Which is nice. For Sheldon.

Though Sheldon himself, sitting next to Emily and trying to find a way to bring unpopular music to the masses, seems more interested in the P-Pipes' possible name change ("Panorama? Pipe-Dreamz? Pipe-Down…no, not Pipe-Down…"), than his upcoming date.

Derek on the other hand seems interested. If only from an egocentric point of view.

"As the guy who draws up the Rota, I get to tell you that you can't skip out early on your shift," he says.

"Oh come on," Marina says. "It's _fifteen _minutes."

"Fifteen minutes where you're supposed to be working," Derek points out.

"I covered for you this morning, when _you _were late. And you definitely didn't have a hair appointment as an excuse," she says, eyeing him critically. "You were probably late because you stopped along the way to kick puppies or something."

Derek looks down. "How did you know? Is the blood still on my shoes?"

"I don't see any reason you can't cover for me this _one _time."

"That's because you're not the one who draws up the Rota," Derek says.

"I think it's because I'm not a _jerk_," she counters.

"I'll do it," Emily says, and she suddenly finds herself the center of attention.

"Really?" Marina makes a happy humming noise. "Oh, Emily – you're the best!"

"What the hell. I mean, it's only fifteen minutes," she says, with an uncomfortable smile. She can feel Sheldon's eyes on her, and she forces herself not to look at him.

"Thank you and thank you and thank you!" Maria says as she grabs her coat and bag. "I really appreciate this." She stops at Emily's table for a moment, but this time, her words are for Sheldon. "I'll, uh, I guess I'll see you later," she says.

Sheldon just stares until Emily elbows him. "Yes. Later," he manages.

Marina smiles and makes her exit.

Then Derek drops a cloth on the table in front of Emily and says, "You're up."

Sheldon stays in Smelly Nelly's for as long as he can – and then he stays a little longer. Finally, though, he can't delay any more.

"Well, I guess I should get going," he says, standing awkwardly in the middle of the restaurant. "So…here I go."

He doesn't move.

"Okay," Emily says, and makes herself smile. "Well, have a great time!"

She glances meaningfully at Derek, who raises a hand in salute. He fake-smiles and says, flatly, "Yeah – Shlep it to her!" before he returns to sorting cutlery.

"I should really go," Sheldon says again, directing his words at Emily.

"Yeah, probably," she agrees. He looks at her, and for a second, she really wants to ask him to stay – to call off the date with Marina and just stay. And she's almost sure that if she _did _ask…Sheldon would do it.

Which is why she _can't _ask.

So instead, she walks right up to him, and puts her hands on his shoulders and says, with all the sincerity she can manage, "Have a great time, Sheldon."

Sheldon deserves that.

"Thanks," he says, and as he's looking back at her, something in his expression changes.

"What?" she says.

"Nothing," he says. Then, "Just…you're a really good friend, Emily."

All she can do is blink and hope her smile doesn't waver as she says, "Yeah."

She watches as Sheldon exits Smelly Nelly's – and then she watches a little longer. Finally though, Derek makes his way over to her and cuts into her door-staring with the pointed remark that, "This is the part of the evening I like to call 'chair-stacking.'"

Emily sighs and grabs her first chair.

As they work, Emily happens to wonder out loud how good a time Sheldon might be expected to have on his date – an action that causes Derek to stop working and make an annoyed sound.

"What?"

"No girl talk," he says firmly. "It kind of interferes with my ability to not beat myself to death with the chairs."

"So what should I do instead?" Emily asks dryly. "Throw on some sunglasses and a blonde wig and get my spy on?"

There's half a moment where they both look at each other, sharing the memory, before Derek's small twist of a smile smoothes out into blankness, and it's gone. He turns and continues hefting chairs, and Emily rolls her eyes, because Derek can't even make himself share their _shared past_.

Yeah – that couple thing would have worked out.

"So…bucket of popcorn and _Bloodbath V_?" Derek asks, back still turned to her.

Okay, so he's trying, she acknowledges, with a small smile. That said…

"I'm really not in the mood for a bloodbath tonight," she apologizes. "Another time?"

* * *

FILE UNDER: _best friends/platonic life partners (Casey McDonald), sisterhood (metaphorical. Also confusing)._

"Oh, that's right – tonight is D-Date," Casey says sympathetically.

Emily sighs as she deliberates in the supermarket freezer section. "No, tonight is _not_ D-Date…tonight is just a regular date. And it's not even _my _regular date, so I shouldn't even be worried. Oreo Cookies n' Cream, or Mint Chocolate Chip?"

"Oreo Cookies," Casey decides.

Emily cradles the cell phone between her shoulder and her ear as she opens the freezer door and grabs the carton of ice cream. "I don't even know why I'm freaked out about it," she lies as she shuts the door. "I guess…maybe it's because it feels like everyone's moving on."

There's an intake of breath on the other end of the line before Casey says, in a small voice, "Everyone…is – moving on?"

Emily realizes her mistake. "Oh no, Case! When I said 'everyone', I meant _everyone, _not…_everyone._"

Some guy with a receding hairline and a basketful of fruit gives her a funny look as he passes her.

"Oh," Casey says, sounding relieved but still shaken.

"Actually, when I said 'everyone', I meant Edwin and Sheldon," Emily admits. She closes her eyes and forces out some more truth. "But…mostly Sheldon."

"You know what I think?" Casey says.

Emily readies herself for the inevitable 'lets talk it out' Casey special.

But Casey doesn't sound confident and eager, the way she usually does when ready to tackle a problem. And the words that come out of her mouth don't line up in neat 'let's-talk-this-out' formation, the way Emily expects them to. Instead, Casey says, hesitantly, "I think…we should have a sleepover."

Emily considers this for a moment. "Okay," she says, and contemplates whether she's going to need a second carton of ice-cream.

It's a little difficult to do, since they're both in different places, but they manage. Emily has to paint her own nails, but Casey chooses the color, based on Emily's description of her various nail polishes. And Emily chooses Casey's face-mask (pretty easy, since Casey only has one. Luckily, it happens to be both 'de-stressing' and 'hydrating').

Emily eats her Oreo Cookies n' Cream, while Casey unearths a packet of yoghurt raisins, and they spend the night talking about small things. They don't discuss Sheldon, and they definitely don't discuss Derek. But when it's really late, and Emily's lying on her bed in the dark, eyes closed and cell phone still pressed to her ear, Casey whispers, "Em?"

"Mmm?"

"I think that when we start living together, we should still go on dates. With each other."

"Hmm?"

"Because…we should always appreciate each other, and make each other feel special. And I think a weekly date night would be a good way to do that. After all, it's not like we need guys to go on dates. We can dress up and go to nice restaurants and take each other dancing…"

"Sounds nice, Case," Emily mumbles. And to her sleep deprived brain, it really does.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _need-to-know, post-date reviews_

She asks. After all, it would be un-Emily of her not to ask. So she braces herself for both possibilities – stomach turning happiness, or stomach churning disappointment – only to find that Marina has chosen secret option c.

"I don't know," she says.

"You…don't know if you had a good time or not?" Emily asks.

"No, no – I had a good time, I just…I don't know. It's hard to explain."

Emily can appreciate that. Sheldon does fit the definition of 'unexplainable phenomenon'. But she can't stop herself from asking –

"So, are you going to go out with him again?"

Absently, Marina touches the orchid clip in her hair and says, thoughtfully, "I don't know…maybe."

Okay, knowing is bad enough, but that doesn't even _compare_ to _not_-knowing_. _

Unfortunately, Sheldon's response also leaves a lot to be desired.

"You know, at the start, I really wasn't sure about this whole 'date' thing," he says, like he's divulging a big secret.

"But now…?" Emily prompts.

"But now…I can see I was just being silly. I'm glad I did it – and actually, it really put things in perspective for me."

Emily blinks at him. Her question ("Did you have a good time last night?") requires a simple yes or no answer. And so far, Sheldon has dodged such an answer with so much skill that, if she didn't know any better, she would swear he was _already_ an elected official.

He goes on. "I mean – you know how you feel something but you don't _know_ – I mean, you think you're feeling it, but there's a chance that you're so _used_ to feeling it, that…maybe it's just a habit, and you're not really feeling it at all?"

Emily can feel her forehead creasing as she tries to follow.

Sheldon keeps going. "Like you're playing a song, and you can't figure out whether the chorus is repeated, or if the record's just…stuck in a groove?"

"You…thought you were stuck in a groove?" Emily asks, cautiously feeling her way towards the point Sheldon's trying to make.

"It was a possibility," he says.

"And – now?"

He stares at her. "Now – now, I know. So, last night was – really helpful."

She stares back, because who uses the word 'helpful' to describe a date? Pushing down the frustration this conversation has created, she asks, hoping against hope for a straight answer, "So…are you two going to go out again?"

Sheldon frowns and says, thoughtfully, "I don't know."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _breakups a-z (McDonald-Venturi section), post breakup (Derek Venturi-Casey McDonald)_

There's no reason for it to bug her. As a matter of fact – it doesn't. Not a full on bugging, anyway. It's more of a niggling. And only because it means her research into break-ups is incomplete. It should never be said that Emily Davis cuts corners when it comes to gossip.

So she employs all her daughterly skills and ambushes Nora as she's unloading clothes from the dryer.

"Oh, I don't know, Emily," she says. "Haven't you got enough of those stories?"

"There's always room for one more?" Emily tries, and aims the camera hopefully.

"Well then, can't you ask Derek? I'm sure he has more than enough break-up stories for you." Emily thinks it's a testament to how nice Nora is normally that there's only a tiny edge to her words.

Nora probably even feels bad about that, because she sighs and says, apologetically, "I don't really feel comfortable doing this."

"I can get you a blue dot and a voice distorter if you want," Emily offers, sensing weakness.

"No, it's not that," Nora says, as she pulls more clothes into her basket.

"Wow," Emily says, "was it that bad?" Half of her thinks Casey's mom has a really juicy story, while the other half just can't believe that. It's Casey's _mom, _who is a little scattered sometimes, but really nice and appropriately mom-like otherwise. On the other hand, it's _Casey's _mom. Casey's got to get it from _somewhere. _

Nora stops. "No," she says suddenly, wryly. "No, it wasn't."

She looks at Emily, and between one breath and the next, her shoulders lower a little, her whole body seems looser somehow, and Emily can tell she's given in.

"His name was James – Jay. Jay Cassidy. And he was _completely _wrong for me – we were just a disaster waiting to happen." She shrugs a little, "And then – we did happen. And..."

"Ouch?" Emily says.

"Yeah," Nora makes a rueful face. "And that's it."

"Okay," Emily nods. Not such a juicy story after all. Still, hoping for some compelling aftermath-wreckage, she presses on. "So what happened then?"

"I took up macramé," Nora non-sequiturs, and shakes her head. Absently, she says, "I must have made a thousand friendship bracelets. I did plant hangers, purses…I even made a hammock for my grandfather."

Emily decides that this constitutes proof that at least some of Casey's Caseyness is genetic.

Nora goes on, "I re-read all my course books, and I signed up for an aerobics class."

"Wow," Emily says, taken aback. She's never been the most motivated of people, but she never expected to feel like she'd failed 'breaking-up'. "Sounds…very productive."

"Not really," Nora confides, frowning at the full laundry basket. "It just felt like…if I stopped, I'd…stop. So I kept moving, and I kept finding more and more things to do, and I kept pretending that I was okay, because if I didn't…" she sighs, "I didn't think I'd ever get out of bed, and then I'd just have to…stay there and feel bad."

And that's apparently it, because Nora takes hold of the laundry basket and makes her way into the kitchen.

Where – Emily winces – she runs straight into Derek. She can see Nora's hands grip the sides of the laundry basket tighter, and Emily just _knows _this is going to be bad. She's stripped Nora of her defenses, made her remember horrible post-breakup feelings, and then sent her spinning into the path of the guy she's currently pretending doesn't exist, since if he doesn't exist, he can't have hurt her daughter.

Unless someone magically distracts her with a macramé pattern, there's no way for this to end well.

Except that along with failing 'breaking up', apparently Emily also didn't make the grade on 'being psychic', because Nora straightens up and begins to aim one of those impersonal smiles Derek's way. Like they're strangers who accidentally bumped into each other on the street, or something.

But even when she can't quite follow through with it, and the smile dies before it makes its way across her face…what follows isn't the epic meltdown Emily expects. Instead, Nora tilts her head a little, and her eyebrows come together, and she just examines Derek without a word, while Derek returns her gaze almost evenly.

It's like the first time she's looked at him, looked at him and really _seen_ him for the entire summer – but it only lasts for a moment. Then the shutters come down again, and Nora moves past him, a little jerkily – and the status quo is restored.

Derek doesn't act any differently, doesn't seem at all affected, but Emily can't shake the feeling that something has changed, even if it's only a little.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _post-date behavior, ongoing issues (continued membership of Shlepper fan-club)_

The thing with Sheldon and Marina is weird. Not normal Sheldon-weird either. Weird-weird. Whenever Sheldon has a break, Marina beelines over to him, and later Sheldon takes a field-trip with her to visit her contact in the Printworks.

Except – those don't really count as 'dates'. Emily should know, because if they _do, _Sheldon is three-timing Marina with both Emily _and_ Derek.

The problem could be that their shifts don't match up for the next couple of days, making it harder to coordinate dates…so they end up not coordinating them at all.

Or maybe the problem is that Sheldon actually doesn't have much time left in London, and he's scrambling to make sure the pan-pipe concert actually happens…which doesn't leave a lot of time for starting a new relationship.

She's not _entirely_ convinced it's safe to relax, mostly because…

"Flowers?" Casey asks suspiciously.

"Still there," Emily says, then frowns. "But kind of…downsized. Smaller."

Casey makes a thoughtful noise.

…but in spite of that, she can't help but relax a little anyway. Hey, she's done her duty as a friend – alerted Sheldon to the presence of a cute girl who liked him, told him to give it a chance, and encouraged Marina to persevere in the face of extreme Shlepperness…clearly, this stalemate has nothing to do with her.

Which means she doesn't have to feel guilty about being relieved that the romance doesn't seem to have taken.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and new issues (telling it like it is), ongoing issues (sudden Presidency of Shlepper fan club)_

After several tense discussions, the members of the P-Pipes vote overwhelmingly to remain the P-Pipes.

Emily wonders if they have any sense of shame, embarrassment, or coolness. Then she remembers that they are a troupe of pan-pipe players managed by Sheldon.

Sheldon, who just...takes it so seriously that it's impossible not to get swept up in his enthusiasm, and forget how lame it is – even if it's just for a moment.

She has one of those moments when they're poring over how much it costs to book the hall in the youth centre, trying to work out just how many tickets they need to sell in order to break even (the answer is always 'too many').

She walks up to the counter to order something appropriately sugary, and while she's waiting on Derek, she turns and looks back at Sheldon, still poring over the page of estimates.

It's not like looking at someone new, because the guy thoughtfully biting the end of his pencil is still recognizably Sheldon. It's more like…looking at him with new eyes. She's never really examined what they've been doing this summer, or more importantly – _why _they've been doing it. She kind of categorized it as Sheldon…just being Sheldon.

And yes, it's still that, but…put in a wider context, as a (granted, crazy) plan to get elected to the students' union, Sheldon 'just being Sheldon' shows a breath-taking amount of energy, foresight and determination. The kind of qualities people probably really _want_ in an elected official.

For the first time this summer, Emily finds herself looking at him and wondering whether he can actually pull this off.

As Derek sets down the two big chocolate chip cookies in front of her, she gives over her money and says, twisting around for a last look back at Sheldon, "You think he's got a shot?"

As Derek hands over her change, he says, "I don't know. Why don't you tell me?"

Her stomach gives a funny flop, even though her voice comes out suitably confused. "What?"

He aims a significant look at her. "Come on. Whether Sheldon Shleps his way into office isn't exactly the A-story here."

She stares at him for a moment, and oh. Between her comment on Casey, and Derek's little dig about Sheldon, apparently, they've reached a new 'no holds barred' cut-the-crap stage in their friendship. She's not entirely sure she likes it.

In the end she busies herself with her change and her cookies, and doesn't answer.

Not out loud, anyway.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _crushes on ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), ongoing issues (real life, Newfoundland)_

It didn't take Emily very long to decide that she didn't want to stage a retro-revival with Derek. And even though it's a harder choice to make, she figures out that that isn't what she wants with Sheldon, either.

Of course, it takes her a while to work out that that wasn't what was on offer, with Sheldon.

Her and Derek – that would have been a retro-relationship, based entirely on nostalgia and memories of 'the good old days.' Sheldon and her…that's different, because her feelings aren't based on _then_. They're also based on _now, _on things that happened this summer.

Her and Sheldon? They could have been a modern twist on a retro-concept, a contemporary take on a long-standing trend. A retro-_inspired_ look…not a cheap imitation. And she kind of digs that look. Pretty hard, actually. Sometime over the summer, while she wasn't paying attention, it kind of…snuck up on her.

_Sheldon_ kind of snuck up on her (which is weird, since he was heralded by fire-throwers, cheerleaders, animals of various shapes, sizes and smells, a medieval knight, and pan-pipers).

Okay, so she's finally figured out where she stands on the Shlepper conundrum. But...the thing is - that doesn't necessarily change anything. After all, as Emily sees it, there are still two major obstacles in the way of a retro-revamp.

The first is the post-date conversation she had with Sheldon. Frustratingly, even though Sheldon and 'ambiguous' were barely on nodding terms before, apparently now they're best buddies, given all the confusing talk of feelings and knowing (but knowing _what_ exactly?). It would really suck if Sheldon's stepped out of the groove, just as Emily is getting into it.

The second is that, even if Sheldon _does_ still feel the same way…he's leaving for Newfoundland in a week and a half. And Newfoundland is still really far away. No matter how she works it, the thought of trying to cram an entire relationship into a week and a half just seems like it would be shortchanging both of them.

When it comes down to it, starting something with Sheldon is a romantic idea, sure – but it's just not how real life works.

Right?


	8. Chapter 8

NOTES: First - and most importantly - I should apologize for not responding to any reviews for the last chapter. End of school year madness is my excuse - I'm very sorry.

As regards this chapter - this was originally where I'd planned to finish it. There might be a short epilogue, but this is basically the end :) So, thanks very much to everyone who reviewed, and who stuck with the story - it's much appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: Done for fun, not profit.

* * *

FILE UNDER_: cruel to be kind (cross-reference with Casey McDonald/lame ideas) _

In and of itself, the P-Pipes' concert isn't a big deal. And if it was just another act in the Sheldon circus, Emily would already be stocking up on shampoo and planning on washing her hair _all night_ to avoid attending. However, it's scheduled just before Sheldon leaves. It's his grand finale, his last hurrah…his swan-Shlep, as Derek puts it.

It can't fall flat.

Basically, what this calls for is some judicious sabotage.

Sheldon squints at the flyers, "Why is 'pan-pipe' so much smaller than the other words?"

Derek and Emily exchange a glance. "Is it?" Emily asks, face carefully blank.

Sheldon frowns at her. "It's five times smaller than the rest of the print. You can barely read it. What do you think, Derek?"

Derek squints at the flyer. "Seems like the perfect size to me."

"And why are the P-Pipers so blurry? You can't see their instruments." He pauses. "You can't even make out their faces!"

Emily puts a hand on Sheldon's shoulder. "Maybe you need to ask…is that really a bad thing?"

Sheldon stares. "Yes! It is! The P-Pipes are proud of who they are, and proud of the instrument they play. And they don't need to resort to – _this,_" he brandishes the flyer, "to sell tickets."

"They don't?" Derek asks.

At this point, Marina makes her way over. "There's a situation in the restroom."

"Marina" – Sheldon begins.

"And you're telling me this because…?" Derek trails off expectantly.

"I thought you should know."

"Well, now I do. So you can go fix it." He makes a shooing motion at her, then turns his attention back to the flyer in his hand.

Sheldon chooses this moment to try again. "Marina, I'm sure you" –

"Maybe _you_ should fix it," Marina says, ignoring Sheldon.

Derek blinks at her.

"The situation is in the _men's_ restroom," she points out.

"And…?"

"And I'm way too shy to go in there," she says firmly.

"Think of me as the guy who helps you get over that," Derek says. "Grab a mop and a plunger and conquer your fears." He smiles a big fake smile and gives her a thumbs up.

Marina places her hands on her hips. "You can't make me."

"Hey!" Sheldon interrupts loudly. "Marina – I thought you should know that I'm taking advance bookings for _Pandemonium_! How many tickets will I put you down for?"

He grabs a pen off the table, and poises it hopefully over his open notebook.

"Oh," she says. "That. Yeah. You know, Sheldon…there's this situation in the men's room that I really have to fix. I'll catch you later!" She turns and marches off.

Sheldon twists in his seat and calls after her, "Yeah! Later!"

When he turns back, Derek observes, "Wow. I knew the P-Pipes weren't popular, but…people would rather clean _actual pee_ than watch them? That's a whole new low."

Sheldon looks a little despondent, and Emily places her hand on his and gives a comforting pat. "It's okay. We're going to fix this."

"We are?" Derek asks in frank disbelief.

"We are." She shoots him a look, and he glances down at the table before raising his eyebrows at her.

She quickly removes her hand from its resting place on top of Sheldon's.

* * *

FILE UNDER_: best friends/platonic life partners (Casey McDonald) and ongoing issues (Derek Venturi)._

"There's no way we can fix this," Emily says.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Casey says, comforting her.

"Casey – they're a group of pan-pipe players, who call_ themselves _the P-Pipes. They describe their music as 'new age's new wave.'"

She can hear Casey's indrawn breath on the other end of the line. "Okay, it's bad," she admits.

"I mean – I don't think we can do it. Have pan-pipe players _ever_ been cool?"

"Maybe in ancient Greece?"

"Great," Emily says. "We'll just…have to change the world, and go back to a time when everyone wore sheets."

"Tunics," Casey corrects absently.

"Yeah. That's the thing to focus on, Case."

There's a silence, and just as Emily's thinking of signing off, Casey says, words strained and slow, "But. You know. You've got the – King of Cool himself…on your team."

Emily just has time to blink at the first direct Derek reference Casey has made this summer, since Casey moves on too quickly for her to say anything. "And – maybe…maybe it's not the _world _you need to change."

* * *

FILE UNDER_: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (pan-pipe band)_

Sheldon smiles an encouraging smile at the P-Pipes, clustered together in the McDonald-Venturi living room. They practically hum with the force of their respectful attention to Sheldon…like he's a Mecca for outcasts or something.

He clears his throat, and begins. "You guys are probably wondering why we called this motivational meeting." He pauses, but the P-Pipes just keep their eyes fixed on him with that same eerie blend of unwavering devotion and unblinking alertness. He coughs. "Well, my associates and I have been brainstorming, and we decided that" –

"We decided that if this thing is going to work – you guys need to be less lame," Derek says bluntly.

As one, the P-Pipes' heads swivel to Derek.

"What?" asks the gangly P-Pipe who corresponds most closely to the band's frontman. Peter…something. "You don't think we're cool?"

He sounds genuinely puzzled. "We're cool, right?" he asks Sheldon – but before Sheldon can answer, the front door opens, and Lizzie walks in. She blinks at the Village of the Dorks assembled in her living room – and Peter P-Pipe suddenly addresses her instead.

"Hey, Lizzie – you think I'm cool, right? I mean – you wouldn't have stopped that guy from beating me up after gym if you didn't think I was cool, yeah?"

"Uh," Lizzie says. "I guess that's….a way of looking at it."

He turns back to Derek. "If Lizzie McDonald thinks I'm cool…I'm cool," he says, with finality.

"But!" Emily says. The P-Pipes' heads all swivel in unison to her. "That…may be true for you guys on an everyday level," she says slowly, because who is she to crush their deluded spirits? "But as a _band_, you need to make a – cohesive style statement."

She nods encouragingly at them, heartened when a few of them nod back. "That's where we come in," she says. "I'm in charge of creating your individual looks, and Derek" –

Derek shakes his head frantically.

"_Derek_," she continues, "will be giving you a beginner's workshop on 'bed-head'."

* * *

FILE UNDER_: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (pan-pipe band)_

Sheldon's suggestion is a no-go from the start. While they're littering the neighbourhood with flyers, he turns to them and says, "You know, maybe if the P-Pipes took to the street – gave people a sample of their sound, it might help them see that they're not your regular pan-pipers."

Even though Sheldon's with them in _theory_, in practice, it's a little bit harder for him to emerge from his life of heavy-duty denial.

"Sheldon," Emily says, "the one small advantage we have, is that people _don't _know what the P-Pipes sound like." She pats his shoulder to soften the blow.

"They may suspect," Derek continues, with a dark glance at the blurred flyers, "But they don't _know."_

* * *

FILE UNDER:_ makeovers, awkward moments_

"I like the first one," Peter P-Pipe says, as Emily tries to decide between two t-shirts.

"Yeah, that doesn't matter as much as you think it does," Emily says, tossing the t-shirt with the winged skeleton at him. He pulls it on over his head.

"How do you feel about eyeliner?" she asks.

"What normal guy _doesn't_ want his eyes to pop?" he says gamely.

"Great! We'll try basic black first…but I've got a feeling that with your coloring, you might be able to pull off a smoky green…"

Emily stops because Peter P-Pipe is clearly not listening. Instead, he's watching as Lizzie descends the stairs.

"Hey," he calls.

"Oh," Lizzie stops dead on the last step. "Wow. New look."

"Yeah," Peter says. "You like it?" He shifts his weight from foot to foot and winces at the musical clinking of the chains on his new black jeans.

"Punk-rock and pan-pipes…it's – different," Lizzie says.

"Yeah, well, whatever it takes to get us a new audience. Or, any audience…" Peter admits. (Derek has taken Operation Makeover as an opportunity to dole out hard truths re: the unpopularity of pan-pipe bands. Along with some invaluable advice on the proper use of styling wax).

"You're really into it, huh?" Lizzie says.

"Piping's my passion," Peter P-Pipe shrugs. He looks at Lizzie hopefully. "Cool?"

Lizzie considers him for a moment. "Actually…in a 'the heavy-handed moral of the story is that doing what you love is ultimately the coolest thing'…it kind of is."

"Yeah?" Peter asks. He ducks his head and smiles down at the ground.

After an awkward moment, Lizzie volunteers, "I'm going into the kitchen now."

He watches her go, and Emily bites back a smile. She expects a resurgence of the mean-spirited 'no couples allowed' feeling she'd had in the wake of Edwin and Sheldon's experiments in coupledom. But instead, all she finds is a kind of wistful amusement.

She guesses it's because –front man in a pan-pipe band? The kid's the dictionary definition of 'underdog,' and it's impossible not to root for an underdog. "You should ask her out," she says, as she uncaps her eyeliner.

"What? No, I couldn't," he says immediately.

"Why not?" she asks.

"Well, I'm cool, yeah," he says, with a lopsided smile, "But I'm not _Lizzie McDonald_ cool. Look at her – she's smart, and kind, and she can chop things in half with her feet. She's like a real-life Eco-girl."

"Eco-girl?" Emily asks.

"You've never heard of Eco-girl?"

"Video game?" she hazards.

"Comic book," he corrects. "Eco-girl's this superhero – by day, she works as a lawyer, bringing down heartless corporations who misuse our natural resources, then by night, she kicks toxic bad-guy butt." He shakes his head. "No-one's cool enough for Eco-girl."

"Cool's over-rated," Emily finds herself saying. "I mean, when Sheldon first asked me out, it took me a little while to see what a great guy he was" –

"Really?" Peter looks puzzled. "Why? Sheldon's the coolest guy I know."

This is probably true, considering the kind of guys Peter hangs out with.

"Well, he wasn't in highschool," she says eventually. "But he kept asking me, until I finally gave him a chance. And – I've always been glad that I did."

"Wow. And you two are still together?" Peter says. "That's great."

"Oh. No. No, we broke up. Now we're just friends," Emily hastily clarifies.

Peter considers this. "So what you're saying is that you two took a crazy, one in a million chance on romance…and ended up as 'just good friends'?" He pauses. "You know, that story's probably not as inspiring as you think it is."

"Friendship is good too," Emily defends, though secretly, she kind of agrees with him. Sometimes, real life leaves a little to be desired in the 'inspiring' stakes.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _cruel to be kind (cross-reference with Casey McDonald/lame schemes), ongoing issues (pan-pipe band)_

Derek's suggestion is sneaky, underhanded and manipulative…but it works pretty well.

Turns out people find it hard to say no to a cute kid, even when the kid is asking them to spend money on a panpipe concert ticket.

Unfortunately, they can only use Marti for an hour or so every other day –between birthday parties, mom-visitations, making up dramatic storylines for her collection of worms (Gummi or real, Emily isn't sure) – she's got a pretty hectic schedule.

Dimi plays along for a while – until Marti instigates an 'employee of the day' type contest – at which point he quits, because Marti always wins.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), awkward moments_

When she and Sheldon open the door, they find Peter with his arm around Lizzie, and Emily can't help smiling. It's absolutely adorable – until roughly two seconds later, when Lizzie bends back the pinky finger of the arm he's got wrapped around her shoulders, and his legs buckle.

Emily makes a pained sound, while Sheldon starts forward and yelps, "Don't damage my main piper!"

She peers down at him, and she says, "That's one self-defense strategy you could use. But maybe that's not such a good example, since the guy who's bothering you would have to put his arm around you if you wanted to try it."

"Happens more often than you'd think," Peter gasps out as he gets to his feet. "Do you think we could run through it again, maybe?" He offers her his arm.

"Sure," Lizzie says. "Want to get a drink first?"

"Yeah, okay," Peter says, before staggering after her. He turns just before he enters the kitchen and gives Emily a thumbs-up.

"Young love," Sheldon remarks as he watches them go. He frowns, "It's a lot more violent than it used to be."

Emily half-smiles, and Sheldon stares at her for a second. "Hey – Em," he says, in an almost-casual voice that makes her freeze. "Do you remember…"

He stops.

She should change the subject – just in case, she thinks. Because Sheldon's going back to Newfoundland, and that isn't any closer than it was the last time he left.

So when she opens her mouth, she expects a cheerful deflection to come out – something like, 'I…remember that I'm really thirsty, so I'm going to get a drink!'

Instead, what comes out is, "Do I remember…?" in a soft voice she really doesn't mean to use. It's a little bit like that time she meant to say, "Sheldon, seriously, I'm not interested, so stop asking," but somehow, somewhere along the way, it got changed to, "Okay. This is not a guarantee or anything, but. One. One date, okay?"

Not that it matters, anyway, because Sheldon shakes his head and says, "…nothing."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ongoing issues (pan-pipe band, random nudity)_

Surprisingly, Emily's idea works out even better than Derek's. Or…maybe not so surprisingly, since it's a well-known fact that sex sells.

It isn't a pre-planned thing – the idea comes to her in a shimmer of heat and desperation while she's trying, unsuccessfully, to persuade four girls that 'new age's new wave' isn't completely washed up.

They don't seem convinced. Emily doesn't blame them.

She's about to let it go as another failed ticket sale, except that she notices one girl stealing glances at Derek as he films Sheldon a little further down the street. Emily stares at the girl checking Derek out, and it's so like looking at herself, circa highschool, that she suddenly knows _exactly _how to appeal to this group.

"Cute, huh?" she says, gesturing in Derek's direction. "You know – he's actually the band's frontman."

For the first time, the girls seem genuinely interested in what Emily has to say.

"How much are the tickets, again?" one of them asks, evaluating the complex social equation of being charged money (minus) to see a cute guy (double plus) play pan-pipes (minus) for an undisclosed period of time (random variable). Math might not have been Emily's favorite subject in school, but her speed at solving for 'y' (where 'y' equals hot guy) has always been impressive.

There's a hasty, whispered conference as the girls attempt to work out whether Derek balances out pan-pipes plus cash plus time.

"I don't know," a girl finally says, drawing the words out.

It's the killer combination of long day, slow ticket sales, and the fact that she feels grimy with sweat that accounts for what Emily says next.

"He's really desperate to get the P-Pipes some exposure. As a matter of fact…" she trails off tantalizingly.

"What?" one of the girls prompts her.

She gives a quick glance around, then takes a step closer to the girls, lowering her voice as she does so. "I really shouldn't say anything, because it's just a rumor, but…Derek's the kind of guy who believes you can't get exposure, unless you're willing to – _give _some exposure."

"You don't mean…" another girl says, eyes wide.

"The last number's a full frontal," Emily says, and she doesn't even feel guilty, because honestly, is lying about fake-nudity any worse than lying about pan-pipes being awesome?

There's a silence.

"Everything?" the third girl asks, sounding kind of breathless.

"_Everything_," Emily confirms. "And believe me, these guys are not afraid to let it all…Shlep out."

The fourth girl takes a step to the side of Emily, to get an unobstructed rear view of Derek, and she tilts her head – assessing.

Then she turns back to Emily and says, "Okay. I think we're in."

Sheldon notices the sudden upswing in ticket sales – but Emily makes a strong defence.

"Would _you _want to see the P-Pipes naked?" she asks.

"I'm their manager – so I think that's kind of an ethical grey area." He stops, "Also…no."

"Yeah – that's what I thought. The way_ I_ see it, when people finally get a good look at the actual line-up, they'll be so relieved that the rumor's _not _true, they'll forget all about complaining."

Sheldon's response is typically atypical. "You know, they always say 'sex sells', but if I'd known just how much…we could have used some of the more risqué stills from my calendar."

Emily blinks. "Your…calendar?"

He nods. "Sheldon Shlepper: A Candidate for All Seasons. It highlights my edge and quirky sex-appeal – in contrast to my competition." He pauses. "So far, all Jimbo Patterson's come up with is 'free pens.'" He shakes his head. "Some people find it really hard to think outside the box."

"So…you made a – naked calendar?" she says slowly. She tries to comprehend it, but her brain shorts out at the thought.

"Tastefully done, of course," he assures her.

"Of…course."

"And, after all, part of my campaign _is_ that I've got nothing to hide."

"Nothing?" she can feel her eyebrows actually straining to go higher.

"Well, there was a fine line between Sheldon Shlepper: Family Friendly Candidate and Sheldon Shlepper: Wild Card…but I was happy with the results."

"Wow," Emily manages, because what other response is there?

When Sheldon turns and walks back to Derek, she can't stop her lips from twitching.

But she also can't stop herself from tilting her head to the side and – assessing.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _makeovers, ongoing issues (pan-pipe band)_

"I thought we already worked out your look," Emily says to Peter, as she highlights a random P-Pipe's cheekbones.

"Smoky green eyeliner, some serious back-combing, and the pants I can't sit down in because if I do, I will literally be screwed," Peter recites obediently, as he follows Emily over to her make-up case. "That's not what I wanted to talk about." He leans close and grins. "I asked Lizzie to our concert."

"That's great!" Emily says, and the random P-Pipe nods. "Way to go! Girlfriend in the front row – sweet."

"Oh – no. She's coming as a friend," Peter says.

Emily winces while the random P-Pipe chimes in with a sympathetic, "Burn."

"No," he explains, "I _asked_ her to go as a friend."

"Oh," Emily says. "But I thought you liked Lizzie as _more_ than a friend."

"Okay, yeah – I do," he admits, running a hand through his hair. Emily notices that the glittery red skull and crossbones Marti drew on his wrist bandage is getting grubby. "But this way, we get to spend time together with zero chance of me being rejected. You know, you were right… this 'just good friends' thing _is_ pretty cool."

"Well…that's – great," Emily says, doubt clear in her voice. She doesn't mean to say anything else, but somehow, it slips out regardless. "I mean…if that's what you really want."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _post break-up, life goes on_

She's been talking to the guy for at least ten minutes about the P-Pipes and the possibility of their fake frontman baring all, and he seems interested – but he still hasn't laid down his money.

Finally, Emily just flat out asks, "So…can I get you a ticket?"

"Yeah, thanks for the offer, but I'm not much of a guy for full frontal male nudity," he says.

She's taken aback, because in that case, why has he been listening?

But she doesn't have to wonder for long, because he smiles at her and says, "Now…if _you _were playing…"

She blinks – not because of what he's just said, but because it's taken her ten minutes to realize that he's flirting with her. She's not usually so _Casey _(which is to say, oblivious) about this stuff. And especially not when the guy is cute – which this guy is. Maybe he's not a full on fire-engine red kind of hot, but she'd definitely class him as a warm shade of orange.

She's just started to smile back at him, a little rusty at this whole thing, when Sheldon taps her on the shoulder and says, "We just made our quota."

She whirls around and says, "You mean…?"

"We're breaking even!" Sheldon says, pride clear in his voice.

"That is so great!" She makes a noise that has never been made in relation to pan-pipes (excitement), and flings herself at him. She should probably be embarrassed to be so caught up by something so lame, but Sheldon, like Casey, has the knack of making her care about less-than-cool things - so instead, she just hugs him tighter.

She feels his arms go around her slowly, his hands tentative on her back, and it's suddenly not really a 'glad the concert is going ahead' kind of hug any more.

Then Derek, who's still filming, says, "You do realize that now we have to actually _go_ to this thing."

It's the reminder she needs to detach. She also takes two big steps backwards for good measure. She gestures over her shoulder and says, "Just give me a minute – I need to finish up here." But when she turns, the guy is gone.

Strangely, she's not disappointed. But then again, he wasn't that cute, anyway.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ongoing issues (Newfoundland, goodbyes)_

When Marina approaches her and Derek, Emily's prepared for round too many in the ongoing Marina/Derek sniping match, but instead, Marina says, "So, what are we doing for Shlepper's last night?"

She and Derek share a look. "That's the night after the concert," Emily says slowly. "I hadn't really thought about it" –

That isn't exactly true, because she's definitely been thinking about Sheldon leaving…she just hasn't seen it as a reason to celebrate.

"And since this is the guy putting us all through pan-pipe purgatory, I never really cared," Derek says.

"You mean, you don't have any plans? Come on – Shlep deserves a proper send off."

"I guess I thought we'd just…hang out," Emily says slowly. "Maybe – maybe watch part of Sheldon's campaign video, get pizza…" she trails off at Marina's disbelieving stare.

"Wow," Marina says. "Hanging out. Does the fun never _begin_ with you guys?" She turns to Derek. "I thought you were supposed to be some kind of party animal, back in the day."

"Don't you have tables to wait?" Derek asks coldly.

"I'm multi-tasking," she says, then rolls her eyes when Derek crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at her. "Okay, fine." She smiles at Emily. "I'll let you know what I come up with for Sheldon."

"Yeah – great," Emily says. "Great."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _general weirdness (McDonald-Venturi section. Cross reference with Shlepperness)_

Unsurprisingly, the P-Pipes suffer a slight crisis of faith when they find out that not only do people not want to see them play, they also don't want to see them naked.

"It's kind of demoralizing," Peter says.

"Or - an opportunity?" Sheldon tries.

"For what? People to _not _objectify us? No offence, but – we were kind of looking forward to that."

Surprisingly, it's Derek who lifts their spirits – by asking his dad to give them a pep talk.

Even more surprisingly, it works, because in the middle of a long anecdote about the legendary jam sessions of George in the Jungle, Derek cuts his dad off. Then he turns to the confused audience of pan-pipers, and says, "See, guys – you're lame, but you're not as lame as you think you are. And you'll never be as lame as _this_." He claps his dad on the shoulder, then holds out a hand in an 'am I right?' gesture.

An enthusiastic buzz rises from the assembled P-Pipes, while George says, "Thanks, Derek."

"Hey dad," he says with an appeasing grin, "You know what I" –

"No, no, you don't have to explain," George says, holding up a hand. "Just to warn you, though – I might remind you about this sometime. Like, say…your fortieth birthday –after the cake and before the mid life crisis."

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ongoing issues (Newfoundland, goodbyes, real life)_

And then – it happens.

P-Day.

That evening, Emily gets ready for the concert with a heavy feeling in her stomach that's got nothing to do with the pan-pipes. But she puts on her game face and heads over to Derek's.

Sheldon opens the door, and she stands for a moment feeling kind of shy while he takes her in. "You look great," he says, finally.

"You too," she says, inadequately, because Sheldon's gone full on debonair, and it's giving her Prom-flashbacks.

Then Derek appears over Sheldon's shoulder, and she musters up a cheerful smile. "So, are we ready?"

"Yeah – about that…I think I'm going to skip the pipe-fest," Derek says.

Apparently, it's as much of a shock to Sheldon as it is to Emily, as they both say "What?" in stunned tandem.

"But – you wanted some footage for Sheldon's video," Emily says.

Derek dismisses this. "Taken care of."

"And what about the P-Pipes?" Sheldon asks. "You don't want to miss their moment of glory!"

Derek sighs and puts a hand on Sheldon's back and steers him forward, until they're all outside the house.

"Okay – let me put it like this," he says. In a slow, explaining-this-to-idiots voice he continues, "Fun as it's been being your third wheel, I think it's time you two kids cycled off on your own."

With that, he takes hold of Emily's hand, and places it in Sheldon's.

Even though it's a small gesture, it makes Emily's heart leap stupidly.

Sheldon stares down at their hands, then up at her. He clears his throat. "Well – shall we?" he asks.

It's funny – for all the time Emily's spent talking herself out of wanting this, it takes her less than a second to jump right in when the opportunity presents itself. The feel of his hand in hers helps her to remember something important – and she gives in to the inevitable.

"We shall," she says, and smiles back at him.

She's been focusing so much on Sheldon going back to Newfoundland, that she almost missed the fact that he's here _now._

Behind them, she hears Derek's front door close.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (pan-pipe band), awkward moments._

The concert is everything Emily expects, and less. They sit in the front row, next to Lizzie and Marti, who has become the groups' good luck charm.

"It's a lot of pressure," she informs Emily. "I've never been a good luck charm for anyone who wasn't _good_ before. I don't know if I'm lucky _enough._"

"They're not that bad," Lizzie says, without conviction.

Emily spends most of the concert alternately fighting back yawns (the pan-pipe is not the most scintillating of instruments) and burying her face in her program to avoid the glares of cheated fangirls – there are a lot more than she remembers.

There's some less than sparkling repartee between songs, as Peter tries to get the crowd revved up, but the audience isn't having it, and sits in sullen silence. Still, since the other option involves rotten fruit and booing, Emily thinks it's going quite well.

So they suffer through what feels like a million renditions of the same song, before finally, finally, Peter says, "So, this is our last number" –

He waits patiently for the cheering and clapping to die down. "Um, okay. So, like I was saying – this is it. And since this is it, we wanted to do something kind of special" –

All around her, Emily can feel the atmosphere change, as the fangirls' minds go to A Very Bad Place, until Peter continues, " – so here's an original composition!"

There's a tiny part of Emily that almost expects an impossible and heart-warming finale, a la Sheldon's surprise victory at Battle of the Bands. Unfortunately, it doesn't work out that way. Still, with the threat of seeing the P-Pipes'…pipes…averted, the concert can't help but end on an up-note. And, after the audience has filed out (which happens in record-quick time), Sheldon gives a speech that highlights the P-Pipes actual achievement.

" – just remember – there were no walkouts. That's huge, and you guys should be proud."

Put like that, Emily guesses the P-Pipes _do _have something special. Maybe not _much _of it, but something.

There's an afterparty, but Sheldon and Emily make their excuses. Marti's sufficiently tempted by the free soda and cupcakes to convince Lizzie to stay for a while.

When they finally get outside – after congratulating every P-Pipe member they bump into – there's an awkward pause.

"So," Sheldon begins.

"So." They're standing a little too close, but it still feels like they're too far apart – and Emily's just begun to reach out to close the remaining distance when there's a noise from behind them, and Edwin appears, camera in his hands, and pushes between them. He seems unaware of the moment he just killed.

"Whew," he says, and shakes his head. "I thought I was never going to get out of there." He looks between them and asks, "So – where are we going now?"

"Nowhere, apparently," Emily mutters.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), ongoing issues (Newfoundland, goodbyes)._

The plan, according to Marina, goes something like, "We all get dressed up, then Designated Driver picks me up, and we make our way to the club." She beams. "Any questions?"

"Yeah," Derek says. "Why don't I have an actual name in this plan?"

"Because your new nickname reminds me why I'm allowing you to join us," Marina says. "Any other questions?"

"You know, if _you_ didn't come, we wouldn't need the car at all," Derek points out.

"Please, without me, your brilliant plan for the evening would go something like…what was that again? Oh yeah, 'hanging out'."

"Hey, that sounds kind of" –

"That doesn't sound like a question," Marina interrupts before Sheldon can finish the sentence. "So, we're clear on the plan? Good!"

Accordingly, later that evening, Emily finds herself déjà vu-ing on Derek's doorstep while Sheldon says, "Hey, you look great. Again."

"You too," Emily says. "Again."

She's come over early, so there's at least some time to just hang out. Which is good, because Sheldon's got goodbye gifts for them. Or, to be perfectly honest, he has –

"Merchandise?" Derek reaches into his bag and pulls out a mug with Sheldon's face on it.

"Preliminary campaign samples," he says.

Emily pulls out a t-shirt from her bag. She blinks at the picture on the front – not because it's Sheldon, but because she doesn't remember Sheldon's head being so much bigger than his body.

"There are still a couple of bugs we have to iron out," he explains, as Emily looks from him to the cross-eyed copy in her hands begging her to "Vote Shepler!" via speech-bubble.

In spite of several such advertising glitches, Emily can't help but smile when she reaches the scrapbook Sheldon has assembled documenting their work over the summer – while Derek seems to approve of the personalized PEZ-dispenser (granted, more for the candy inside, than the Sheldon-shaped container).

But all that fades in comparison when Derek grabs hold of the last item, only to yelp and drop it almost immediately. It falls to the ground in a flutter of black and white images.

Apparently, Sheldon wasn't lying about the naked calendar.

"Jeez – a little warning, Shlepper?" he says, wiping his hand on his jeans. Emily bends down to pick it up, intending one quick, surreptitious flick from January to December. But the sheer…_nakedness _of the calendar militates against such cursory treatment, and Emily finds herself unable to look away.

"Wow," she says eventually, blinking at a photograph of Sheldon attending to paperwork in the nude, "That's a strategically placed" –

"Black spruce," Sheldon says helpfully. "It's one of the symbols of Newfoundland."

"Huh," Emily says, and tilts her head.

"We tried a couple of different things before we settled on the spruce – provincial tartan, purple pitcher plants…one guy really wanted a Newfoundland pony – but I had to fire him."

"Good call," Derek says.

They aren't able to watch Sheldon's video, because Derek hasn't finished. "I've still got a couple of parts to edit in," he gestures with his hands, as if he expects her to pull a Casey and call him out for not being finished.

Instead, Emily says, "That's great!"

"It…is?"

"Yeah, because," she turns to Sheldon, "I have something for you too. It's not a gift-gift," she hastily clarifies, "but…think you have room for one more testimonial?"

It's a little awkward – but only until she starts speaking. Because this time, she knows exactly what to say.

"Okay, I'm going to be honest. I don't really know a lot about this election – I don't know about the other candidates, I don't know about the issues…and I _really_ don't want to know anything about the debates. But," she continues, "Here's something I _do _know. Sheldon Shlepper is a great guy. I mean, I'm his ex-girlfriend – and he's still number one in my book. So…vote Shlepper. He's a good guy," she finishes softly, and looks straight at Sheldon.

He's standing off to the side, and Emily expects him to be smiling, or at least pleased-looking. But instead, he has a strange expression on his face, not sad, exactly – kind of…hopelessly hopeful, she decides.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _done (probably). Finished (maybe). Over (you know, if it had ever started). The end (…right?)_

When they pick up Marina, she's wearing a huge overblown white rose in her hair. Emily's almost certain that the S.S. Sheldon-Marina has sailed, but just in case, when they get out of the car, she casually slips her hand into Sheldon's before asking, "What now?"

She can feel Sheldon looking at her, but she keeps her eyes on Marina, who thankfully doesn't seem phased or upset. "Now, we party," she says simply. Then she turns to Derek and says, "_If_ you remember how, of course."

But after they get into the club, it's Sheldon who attracts the negative remarks. When he starts to spasm to the music, Marina leans over to Emily and shouts in her ear, "Okay, I get the whole 'let's just hang out' thing now."

After that, it's a stroboscopic blur of Sheldon contorting himself into ever more bizarre poses. Between one beat and the next, Marina loses herself in the crowd, and after some particularly enthusiastic armwork – that looks a little bit like clueless preppy krumping, but mostly like Sheldon is battling enormous invisible butterflies – Derek disappears too.

The one good thing about Sheldon's dancing is that it creates a lot of space on the dance-floor. People tend to stand back to get the full spectacle. So, dancing in Sheldon's general vicinity means that Emily doesn't have to suffer the squashing and overcrowding that goes hand in hand with clubbing.

So she just waits out the fast songs, and takes hold of Sheldon whenever something slower comes on. Sheldon knows what to do with a slow song.

It's nice, even if it's not exactly what she wanted from tonight…but then, Sheldon's leaving first thing tomorrow morning. She gets the feeling that whatever they did or planned, no matter how perfect, would have been overshadowed by that fact. So she resolutely pushes down the faint, flat feeling of disappointment that threatens to well up every so often, and tries to make the most of _now. _It isn't enough…but it's still something.

Towards the end of the night, Marina and Derek re-appear – Marina's flushed and her rose is perched at a different, jaunty angle in her hair, which has come loose. There's just time for her to fling an arm around Emily and Sheldon, and sway with them to the last song. Then, as the club empties, she dispatches them to get the coats.

The line is long, and it takes a while before they reach the top. When they have the coats, they make their way outside, where they find Marina standing next to Derek, chanting, "Cold, cold, cold."

It is a little bit chilly, but when Emily hands her her shiny little cardigan, she takes her time putting it on. And she doesn't step away from Derek. In fact, Emily notices that she's standing beyond-normal-employer-employee-boundaries close to him. Like, any closer, and she'll be inside his pants. And…are her fingers hooked into his belt?

Emily realizes the truth with a sudden sickening lurch.

Funnily enough, the worst part is that she really should have known – this isn't the first time she's had a front row seat to _Antagonism: A Love Story_. Plus…Marina had even warned her. Champion Rebounder – she'd said it herself. She just…hadn't bounced very far this time.

"I'm going to take Marina home," Derek says, face unreadable. "You guys can take it from here, right?"

As Marina pulls Sheldon into a goodbye hug, Emily has one frozen moment where all she can do is hurt for Casey – Casey who doesn't even _know_ she's been hurt yet, which somehow makes it worse. And then…that feeling doesn't go away, but it twists, double-sided, and suddenly, she's remembering that Derek hasn't stood still once this whole summer – like he has to keep going, or…

She hears Nora's voice in her head, saying, " – kept moving…because if I didn't…"

She looks at Derek and finds it impossible to hate him. Impossible to do anything but feel bad for him too.

And then Marina's stepping away from Sheldon, and resuming her former (too close) position next to Derek. Emily looks at him, and something passes between them. Not acceptance, because Emily can't just turn off her sympathetic Casey hurt, and not condemnation, because Emily's been where Derek is, and she can't blame him for not wanting to feel empty and heartbroken forever. It's just…an acknowledgment, she guesses, and it seems to be enough for Derek, because with a, "Catch ya later, Shlep," and a meaningful shoulder slap, he and Marina walk away in the direction of his car.

Emily watches them go for a minute.

"Kind of harsh," Sheldon observes, behind her.

Emily half-shakes her head, because it is…and at the same time, it isn't. "So – what? You're supposed to keep loving one person forever, even when it's definitely over?" Her voice is a little distant, remembering Jarrod. If that were the case, she wouldn't be here now – and to her, that seems just as harsh.

"Yeah, that…would probably suck," Sheldon says, finally.

She turns to him and takes his hand. "Come on."

The walk home is almost silent, Newfoundland looming over them and making all their small talk seem even smaller. Strangely though, it's not uncomfortable, and…it's not entirely sad either. Not sad the way Emily expects, anyway. She feels regretful, but also – now that the goodbye is actually here…somehow okay, in spite of the sadness. Like she's strong enough to handle it, maybe, or maybe just…hopeful.

They get to Emily's house too soon, and spend a couple of minutes talking about Sheldon's travel plans.

"Call when you get there," Emily reminds him. "Or text. And – keep in touch, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees.

Suddenly, there's nothing left to say except goodbye.

"I guess this is it," she says, lamely.

"I guess," he says.

And maybe Sheldon _will_ call, and they will stay in touch – and if they do, there's always _next _summer, right? Which is a nice thought. But there's also the possibility that he won't call, or they'll drift out of contact – and even though that's sad, and not what she wants to happen…it's also understandable.

But – it also means this could be a _goodbye_-goodbye.

Which is why Emily finds herself saying, "Sheldon…I just…I wanted to say – thank you."

"Hey, I should be thanking you. I mean the amount of time and effort you've invested in my campaign" –

"No," she interrupts, "I didn't mean – not that." She takes a deep breath and says, "You never broke my heart."

"Thanks for the reminder, but I actually got that memo the first time around," Sheldon tells her, with a funny scrunched up smile.

"No, Sheldon," she takes hold of his shoulders because he's not getting it. She stares into his eyes and says, very sincerely, "_Thank you_ for not breaking my heart."

Sheldon's broken more plates than he's served Smelly Nelly customers, and he can barely make it up a flight of stairs without breaking both his legs, and he's _always_ broken all the rules normal, civilized people follow. So, it says a lot that he's been so careful with _this_, with her – with her heart.

It says everything.

She hugs him, and she holds on a second too long, but then she makes herself pull back. "Goodbye, Sheldon," she says, and she kisses his cheek. He doesn't say anything.

And that's it.

She turns away, and concentrates on unlocking her front door. She catches a last glimpse of him as she closes it behind her.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _ex-boyfriends (Jarrod Jackson), life goes on._

She locks the door, and she goes upstairs. It's strange that Sheldon leaving, should make her feel so sad, but also…strong, in a way. Still whole, and still okay.

It's strange, but it helps her figure out something she needs to do.

She carefully takes off all her make-up, and brushes her teeth, and she changes into an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts. Then, she sits at the bottom of her bed, picks up Derek's camera, and turns it on.

She holds it in front of her, and says, "Jarrod. Hi." She stops for a second, and says conversationally, "You know, this isn't exactly how I planned on doing this. I was going to do a whole dressed-to-kill thing – show you exactly what you're missing…"

She makes a wry face. "Obviously, that changed. See, I don't really care what you think, so I figured...I don't need to impress you. I don't need to prove that – you're the one who lost out. I _know_ it."

The next part's a little harder, but she just takes a breath, and continues. "Fine, I can admit that sometimes – sometimes I _do_ think about you. I wonder how you could do what you did, and why, and what she's like, and whether she's prettier than me…"

She stops, but this part isn't hard at all, so she looks straight at the camera and says, slowly, "But I don't think about those things very much anymore."

She's almost there. "And okay, maybe you can argue that sending you a break-up video kind of cancels out the 'not caring' thing, but…that's where you're wrong. Because…" she stops and manages a smile, "this isn't for _you_."

And then, there's just one last thing for her to do. "Hi, Case. I'm going to keep this short because my arms are killing me. You're probably wondering why I'm sending this to you, and I'm going to tell you. _But_ – you have to listen, okay? Because – there's something you need to know." She plunges ahead, because for once, Casey can't interrupt, "Derek's not over you. Not now, and probably not for a really long time."

She stops. "But – one day…he will be. Because…that's what happens, Case. People – get over stuff. Take it from someone who knows. And if you're okay with that – with Derek being okay…then that's okay. That's great. But if you're not…" she trails off and bites her lip, before trying again. "If you're _not – _then I think you should come home."

"Actually," she finishes, going completely for broke with this whole honesty thing, "I think you should come home anyway."

She turns off the camera, and puts it down. Her break-up stories aren't tightly edited, or perfectly lit and framed, like Derek's…but they still provide solid, unquestionable proof of Emily's point. She hopes that Casey will get it.

She'll send her a copy tomorrow, Emily decides, before she gets into bed and turns off the light.

* * *

FILE UNDER: _current boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper), top ten romantic moments ever (new all time __#1)_

She wakes an hour later to the sound of breaking glass, screams, and Dimi hurtling past her room, crying, "We're under attack!"

She scrambles out of bed and rushes after him. "What? What's happening? Who's attacking us?"

"Your psycho ex-boyfriend," Dimi calls, before he disappears down the stairs.

Emily just stands outside her bedroom for a moment, stunned. "My…_Sheldon?!_"

Her mom and dad suddenly appear at the door of their bedroom, clinging to each other. "Are you okay?" she asks. "What happened?"

Her mother nods, a little shakily. "We're fine – it's just the window. Your..._friend_...threw a rock and smashed it."

"Sheldon broke our window? Where is he? Is he still outside?"

"I should have known," her dad mumbles, dazed, "After he left those scorch marks on our lawn."

"That wasn't Sheldon's fault," Emily calls over her shoulder as she runs downstairs. "The flame-thrower made a mistake."

As she grabs the key off the key holder, she can hear her dad ask her mom, "What the hell kind of fool employs his own arsonists?"

"Emily – be careful!" her mom exclaims, as they follow her, "He has rocks!"

She unlocks the door, her family crowding protectively behind her – and there's Sheldon, standing almost where she left him an hour and a half ago.

"Emily – hi," he says, as if he's just rung her doorbell in the middle of the day. Meanwhile, the lights are being turned on all over the McDonald-Venturi house, and across the street, she can see Mrs. Mackenzie's upstairs curtains twitching.

"Hi, Sheldon," she says, slowly. She stares at him, but nothing else seems to be forthcoming, so she notes, "You just threw a rock through my parents' window." That's got to be a conversation starter, right?

"Yeah," Sheldon agrees, and squints upwards thoughtfully. "I thought it was your window."

"It's not," she says.

"Yeah. I figured that out." He pauses. "Do you guys have insulated glazing? I'm asking because" –

"_Sheldon_," she says, and he stops, and blinks at her. "_Why_ did you throw a rock through my parents' window?"

"I – wanted to talk to you," he says.

"He couldn't call?" her dad mutters behind her.

"He's a _psycho_," Dimi helpfully tells him. "They don't call."

"Oh," Emily says. "Well…what did you want to" –

She's interrupted by the bang of the McDonald-Venturi front door, as Derek marches out, camera in hand, trailed by the rest of his family. He looks beyond pissed off, but Emily takes a moment to feel glad that he's _there, _and not at Marina's place.

"We talked about this, Shlepper!" he yells, "Lighting and sound considerations, remember?"

"The heart wants what it wants," Sheldon calls back, without taking his eyes off Emily.

"Yeah – but does it have to want it at four-thirty in the morning? Your lighting is for _shit. _You're lucky that I'm a pro!"

He turns to Marti and says something, and she yells across the lawn – "Turn on some lights, Dimi!"

"_What_ is going on?" her mom asks, as the light over the door and the hallway light come on, and Derek takes a short cut through their flower-bed to get a closer shot.

Emily doesn't answer, because she's got this feeling, standing on her doorstep in her bare feet…not just a feeling – almost a certainty.

Shlepping up to bat as often as Sheldon does, inevitably, most of the time, he strikes out. But – just as inevitably, every once in a while, he manages a spectacular hit. This is one of those times – she can almost taste it in the air.

Maybe Sheldon can sense it too, because he keeps his focus on her, seemingly unphased by his pyjama-wearing audience.

So she asks, softly, anticipation building, "What did you want to say to me, Sheldon?"

"You, uh, you told me that I never broke your heart," he says, and she nods, following his words. "And I wanted to say that I'm glad. That I never broke your heart." He stops, and his eyebrows draw together. "But…that doesn't change the fact that – you broke mine."

That…wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She stares at him. "I did?"

"Twice," he says.

"_Twice_?" she repeats.

"Okay, well, I'll allow that there were some extenuating circumstances the first time," Sheldon allows.

She can't help asking, "And the second?"

"The second," he swallows. "…I came back and you had a boyfriend. That, uh, that really wasn't part of the plan."

"Plan?"

He frowns at her. "Emily – I have to admit, I'm kind of hurt. I mean, you'd think a girl would remember her first marriage proposal."

Her heart gives a thump, even though she really doesn't understand what he's saying.

"I – thought you came back here to shoot your campaign video," she says slowly.

"Emily – coming back here is campaign suicide, surely you know that? My advisors were totally against it. I mean – this is where I was stripped of my prefectship. Do you know what Jimbo Patterson would do with that kind of information?"

"Oh. But you said -"

"I panicked. Like I said – you having a boyfriend wasn't exactly part of the plan."

All Emily can do is look at the self-deprecating set of his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she says, and means it. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt Sheldon – even if it was unintentional.

"Yeah – that's nice to hear, but it doesn't really excuse the gross negligence or deal with the resulting pain and suffering." He stops. "I think we should talk restitution."

It's four thirty in the morning, and Emily's not entirely certain that she's following this, but…from what Sheldon is saying, she gets the impression that –

"You're _suing_ me?"

"_He's_ suing _us_?" comes her father's outraged echo.

"No," Sheldon says. "I mean, I thought about it, but you really can't put a price on that kind of emotional distress."

"Then what" –

"What do _you_ think constitutes fair compensation?"

He's looking at her intently, clearly willing her to Get It. And, suddenly…she does.

Steadily, trying to control the anticipation building inside her, she says, "I guess…if I broke your heart – I could always try to fix it."

She waits.

"Good," Sheldon says. "Once you realize that – that's probably going to take a long time."

Various dismayed sounds come from behind her.

She knows that she _should_ bring up the hard truths. That he's going back to _Newfoundland, _or that long-distance relationships aren't exactly known for their lasting power – not to mention that trying out the long-distance thing on a relationship that's only an hour old seems like the most successful recipe for disaster ever.

"I'm okay with that," she says instead.

"Good," he says softly.

"Good," she repeats, face stretching from the force of her smile.

Their beam-a-thon is interrupted by a pointed throat-clearing from Derek.

"Yeah, D, I'm kind of in the middle of something here," Sheldon informs him, eyes still on Emily.

"I noticed," Derek says. "But here's the thing – we kind of need the money shot."

"Oh," Sheldon frowns. "I really don't have a speech. Well, I _do_, but I don't think it could do justice to the moment. I mean, what do you say after you've won the heart of your dream girl?" In a lower voice, he checks with Emily, "I _did_ win your heart, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

Derek lowers the camera and uses his free hand to gesture towards Emily. Sheldon misinterprets this. "Okay, I'm sure Emily has more flattering pajamas, but if you insist." He clears his throat. "I believe it was Plato who first said" –

"Kiss her!" Marti yells impatiently across the lawn.

"EW!" Dimi screams back at her.

"Shut up!" She glares while Nora puts a calming hand on her shoulder.

Sheldon blinks, train of thought derailed.

"You haven't kissed me yet," Emily reminds him.

"I haven't? Huh, you're right. I guess in all the excitement it kind of" –

She interrupts, because otherwise, this could take a while. "Sheldon?"

"Hmm?"

"Now would be good."

He takes a step closer, smile spreading across his face. "Yeah?" he asks.

"Yeah," she affirms and she takes her own step forward, until her bare feet are almost touching Sheldon's shoes.

"Actually, I need to set up the shot, so if you could wait just a second," Derek interrupts.

She shakes her head, not looking away from Sheldon. In her opinion, a whole summer is long enough to wait. "I don't think I can," she tells him.

So she doesn't.

As she leans in, a thought suddenly strikes her. This isn't how real life works.

…she closes the distance between them anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

NOTES: This is IT, I swear :) The end. I...actually cannot believe I found this much to say in the first place (I knew Emily and Sheldon were awesome- I just...thought they were closer to one-to-three chapters of awesome, when I started out). Anyway - thank you so much to anyone and everyone who read this story.

Also, this is the first epilogue I've ever written, so...I don't know. If you like it, thank pheobe p, and if you don't - blame me (and then please tell me what I did wrong!) :)

DISCLAIMER: Nope - LWD is still not mine. I did all this here writing for fun, not profit - which probably makes me a s.u.c.k.e.r!

* * *

Of course, that wasn't the end…

* * *

It should come as no surprise that after mounting a vigorous and confusing campaign, Sheldon Shlepper…lost the college election by a landslide. His opponent, Jimbo Patterson, claimed that this highlighted the electorate's discernment and unwillingness to be fooled by a candidate that peddled soft-focus romance instead of hard practical policies. Sheldon Shlepper claimed that he had been the victim of a vicious smear campaign, as news of his revoked highschool prefectship mysteriously became widespread knowledge. However, upon being interviewed after the recount, Sheldon Shlepper appeared much more positive, stating, "My opponent may have gotten the title, the power…and, okay, the kudos. But, hey – I got the girl."

The Davises invested in insulated glazing, as well as a state of the art security system.

Lizzie McDonald brokered an agreement between Marti and Dimi in order to end the bad feeling that originated with the lemonade stand. Marti claimed that it had all worked out exactly as she had predicted it would, back when she was in the fortune-telling business.

Peter P-Pipe recorded and released a CD of original compositions and dedicated it to Lizzie. The album was entitled _Just Good Friends? _Peter would later claim that the question mark was a misprint.

Edwin Venturi found himself financially stretched due to the fact that his girlfriend's birthday happened to fall at the same time as his father's. After prioritizing and buying a pair of shoes for Blythe Ford, Edwin found himself unable to afford a present for George. However, he was unexpectedly helped by his older brother, who happened to have a spare calendar just…lying around.

This made for a very apt…_surprise_ party for George Venturi. However, the upside was that he was able to tell Nora with complete sincerity that the macramé guitar holder she made him was his favorite birthday gift.

After Sheldon Shlepper's return to Newfoundland, Smelly Nelly's was short a staff member. The employment of Jennifer Sheridan coincided with a sharp upswing in the number of hair accessories worn by Marina Peacocke. This could have been a mere coincidence…or it could have been related to Jennifer's brother - bodybuilder and lift-giver, Jason.

Casey McDonald abruptly broke all ties with the _Let's Dance! _dance company. However, the company declined to pursue the matter, despite it being a clear breach of her three-month contract. "The thing is…if we _pursued _her, we might _catch _her," one member is understood to have said.

Another unexpected occurrence was the sudden closure of Derek Venturi's business. No reasons were given, but financial problems were mentioned as a possible factor, as no money was ever refunded to the clients who had pre-paid. Likewise, no reimbursement was provided for those with a 'Say it with a Derek Production' coupon.

As for Emily Davis…she bought a new laptop, and when she went back to college, she took the single room. She dropped out of the drama society. She explained about Jarrod, and attempted to explain about Sheldon, but somehow, something got lost in translation. "I'm not saying he's not…sweet," her room-mate Sandra told her, "but, face facts, Em. You're long-distance dating a cross-eyed midget from Newfoundland. This kind of relationship is spelled R-E-B-O-U-N-D. Meanwhile…whenever he sees me, Jarrod _always _asks about you." Emily continued to insist that the campaign merchandise didn't show Sheldon in his best light.

It all culminated with…this.

* * *

Since Emily had forgotten to set her alarm, the continued theme of the day was lateness, and she had just managed to get inside the door without dropping either her keys or the bag of Chinese food, when her cell phone rang. She kicked the door closed with her foot, hurried into the kitchen and dropped her take-out on the table, then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

"Hey, Case," she said, hoping against hope that it wasn't going to be –

"Em, I am so glad you answered! Another minute and I'm telling you, I would not be held responsible for my actions!"

– one of _those _calls. Emily checked her watch and grimaced. "Whatever he's done, can't you just…think of it as – practice? Look at it like this – you and Derek are working out all those cohabitation kinks so that, when _we_ buy our platonic house of bliss, we won't have to."

"Yeah, except that I'm sure _you_ would never" –

The doorbell rang, and Emily took it as a sign to interrupt. "Okay, well – whatever it is that I would never do…could you maybe give me the condensed version? I have twenty minutes until my online date with Sheldon, and I still haven't ironed my outfit."

She looked down at her ensemble, which, due to lateness plus laundry disaster, consisted of Sheldon's campaign t-shirt and wrinkled black pants.

"Oooh – what are you guys doing?"

"Having Chinese food in our rooms. Sheldon wanted to try an actual restaurant, but there's no way I'm sitting at a table for two with a laptop, even if he does think it's more romantic."

The doorbell rang again, and she sighed, "Actually, can I ring you back later? Because it seems like I'm the only one on door duty this evening." She stuffed her cell phone back into her pocket and backtracked through the hall.

She opened the door.

And wished she hadn't. "Jarrod?! What – are you doing here?"

"Emily," he said, and shuffled his feet. At least he had the decency to look uncomfortable, she thought, a little dazedly.

"Sandra," he said. "Um – I said…I'd pick her up before rehearsal. For the play. Obviously." He raised a hand tentatively. "And…hi."

"Yeah, that…of course," Emily said. "I'll – get her."

She turned and marched towards Sandra and Lisa's room, and knocked harder on the door than necessary.

"Jarrod's here," she said, in a tone that hopefully didn't communicate the fact that as soon as Sandra stepped outside, Emily was going to kill her.

"Okay," Sandra called, not sounding even slightly ashamed. "Um – Em, I'm going to be a couple of minutes…can you hold the fort and make small talk?"

"With my _ex-boyfriend_? Um…_no. _So open up and come out!" she hissed.

"Come on, Em – what's the big deal?"

Emily gaped at the door, speechless.

"You've told me you're over him" –

"I am!"

"And if that's true – then…what's the big deal? I mean, you keep saying you've moved on, and you're totally into Newfoundland. All that stuff with Jarrod is ancient history, right?"

"Well, yeah, but" –

"So you can entertain him for ten minutes," Sandra said, insistently. "Now go! I'm completely naked in here."

"In that case, maybe _you_ should be the one to entertain him," Emily muttered, as she made her way back to the door. She smiled awkwardly and said, "Yeah, she's going to be a few minutes. You should – you should come in."

She walked back into the kitchen, conscious of Jarrod behind her. She turned and faced him. Her eyes kept darting away every time they met his, though. It wasn't - she wasn't angry. Not anymore. And even if she had been, it was too late to talk about it. It was too late to say anything real, anything meaningful. There was nothing left to say. There was nothing left, except awkwardness.

"So – how are you?" he asked, eventually.

"I'm fine," she said, "Good. You?"

"Yeah I'm – I'm doing okay." He nodded. "You look – um, you look really good."

Emily shook her head a little in blatant disbelief, because one of the side effects of her 'Vote Shepler' t-shirt was cross-eyed boobs. "And the Oscar for best performance goes to…" she said, words coming out a little clumsy.

"I mean it," he said. "So – just take the compliment, okay?"

Suddenly, she remembered him saying that…before. On a date. The disjunction between that time and this one gave her double vision, made her blink.

"Thanks," she said. And then, hunting for something to say, to fill the silence, "Um – I just remembered…I have a sweatshirt of yours. I mean – it's not here, it's at home. But I can ask my mom to mail it on and I can give it" –

"It's okay," he said. "Keep it." He stopped and made an embarrassed face. "Which – I didn't mean that I thought that you'd want to keep it…just – it's only a sweatshirt. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," she said again.

Jarrod broke the silence this time. "So – he won then?"

Emily stared at him, confused, and Jarrod gestured at her t-shirt. "Your friend. He won?"

Emily took him in–really looked at him for the first time since she'd opened the door. He was…exactly like she'd remembered him – tall, dark and ridiculously handsome. Like every adolescent fantasy she'd ever had come to life.

"Yeah, he won," she said, realizing just how true it was as she said it. "Hands down."

She didn't try to stop the smile that spread across her face. It wasn't really aimed at him, but Jarrod smiled back hesitantly.

"Um – Em…ily, I just. Okay, I know this is going to sound…stupid, probably, but – do you think…that maybe..."

Emily started as her cell phone began to vibrate in her pocket – reminding her of her schedule for the evening. "I'm sorry," she said, taking it out and thumbing off her alarm, "I actually – kind of have to go. I have a date and I don't want to be late."

She grabbed her bag of Chinese food, and walked out of the kitchen, to her room. Where, courtesy of a webcam and a reliable internet connection, Sheldon awaited.

She didn't look back once.

* * *

Of course, that wasn't the end, either…

…but it's as good a place as any to stop.


End file.
